Falling Towards Apotheosis
by Banquo
Summary: Xander and Faith have returned home after the events of “Leaves of Grass” but all is not as it seems. Dark dreams and plans set into motion allude to the danger that waits beyond the horizon.
1. Chapter 1: New beginings and dark dreams

Title: Falling Toward Apotheosis  
  
Rating: R  
  
Author: Banquo  
  
Email: banquo@fanfiction.net  
  
Summary: Xander and Faith have returned home after the events of "Leaves of Grass" but all is not as it seems. Dark dreams and plans set into motion allude to the danger that waits beyond the horizon.  
  
Disclaimers: I own nothing except the story and all the characters I create in between. Buffy and all character related there in belong to Joss and Mutant enemy. While the concept of Immortality and all characters pertaining to Highlander belong to Panzer-Davis.  
  
Archive: Go right ahead! Just email me a link where you plan on archiving my fic.  
  
Though this story can stand on its own there are references to my first story so I strongly recommend that you read my first story "Leaves of Grass" which can be found at www.fanfiction.net search for the title and it will appear on the top of the list. Or you can go here directly to get to the story.  
  
I'd like to thank my beta readers for this story, Ray, Vega, Joe and Saffi, without you guys I'd be a grammatical mess. I'd also like to take this time to thank all those who read and commented on my first story "Leaves of Grass." All of your comments and suggestions really helped me in the creative process as well as encouraged me to continue to write even when my muse and desire to write waned. I can only hope to live up to all of your expectations. So without further ado, here it is: Falling Toward Apotheosis.  
  
  
  
Darkness. That is all there is. Darkness.  
  
He can feel whispers of movement, shadows moving in the blackness. The whispers grow louder as he reaches out with his hands trying to feel his way around, or perhaps to scratch the black fabric of darkness to unveil a hidden light. Out of the corner of his eye he thinks he sees something moving. He turns to face the movement only to hear the sounds that only a sword being unsheathed can make. His sword is in his hands immediately, as if the very thought of a sword made it appear ready in his hands.  
  
The whispers grow now sounding more like the gentle whistling of the wind. He could feel something. But it was all around him, all-encompassing, almost suffocating. The darkness seemed press closer to his body, if such a thing was possible. Above the light whistling of the breeze he did not feel he could hear the echoing of footsteps growing louder and louder as the seconds ticked by; assuming that seconds actually tick by in this place. How could time be kept in a place where there is no reference for time? The echoes grow louder and louder until they match the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.  
  
Turning around in slow circles hoping to prepare for the opponent he could hear but could not see. He felt like a caged animal with the wall to his back, but there was nothing at his back, only the oppressive darkness that surrounds him. That is until he felt the coldness of steel on the back of his neck.  
  
  
  
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Xander bolts upright in his bed. Breathing hard and looking around he finds that he is in his own room, in his own bed. He sits in silence as his heartbeat slows and the sweat begins to evaporate from his skin. He was in his bed. His empty bed, he sadly adds. Removing the sheets covering his legs he swings his legs off of the bed and plants his feet onto the floor.  
  
His head hung low, he slowly turns and faces his bed, his empty bed. Standing up and making his way to the bathroom he thinks to himself that if Faith had been in the bed with him the dreams would have never have come. Or at least he would have felt better every time he woke up, but Faith wasn't in his bed.  
  
Faith had not been in his bed ever since they had returned. The first night she had spent in his house, Faith had a breakdown and Xander was there to help her through it. They had fallen asleep together that night, secure and safe in each other's arms. For Faith it was her first good night's sleep since leaving Sunnydale, for him it was his first contented night's sleep he could remember. Every night after that they slept together in the same bed.  
  
When they returned from Sunnydale however, he had found that along with her memories Faith also lost the need to sleep with him at night. Turning on the cold water in the faucet he cups the cold liquid in his hands and splashes it in his face, the cool liquid calming and steadying him. He had not really realized how grounding it was for him to have Faith at his side while he slept until she had begun sleeping in her own room.  
  
Chuckling, he grabs a towel as he remembers the comment Faith had made when she first saw her room. "It doesn't look very lived in does it? You sure this is my room?"  
  
Well it was her room, the only thing was that she had only used it for a day and then she started sleeping with him in his room. He shrugged off the comment on the fact that she didn't get much time to do any decorating due to what had come up in Sunnydale. Thankfully she accepted the answer without too much question.  
  
Returning to his bedroom Xander just stands there contemplating what to do. Looking over at the bedside clock he sees that it is already four-thirty, he usually wakes up in an hour so going back to sleep won't do him any good. TV is full of infomercials around this time and the paper won't be arriving for another half hour. Seeing that his only option is his computer he quietly opens his door and softly walks down the hall to where his computer sits.  
  
Xander pauses a moment at the door leading to Faith's room, it is cracked open just a bit allowing him to look into the room. Pushing the door softly and quietly opening the door Xander leans on the doorframe watching Faith sleep. Though her back is turned to him he can see the outline of her body underneath the sheets, her breathing slow and even. Closing his eyes he remembers the early mornings where he would wake up hours before her and just look at her in the early morning light. Her face peaceful and content, his hand lightly stroking her hair, he looks back on those times as some of the happiest in his life.  
  
Sighing he quietly whispers mostly to himself, "Sleep tight Faith, sleep tight," before closing the door and walking to his makeshift office. Seating himself at his desk he reaches over and pushes the button that brings power to his computer. The fans whirr and the sounds of the hard drive spinning accompany the messages confirming that his computer is booting up correctly. Pressing the correct buttons to bring up the login screen Xander types in his username and password gaining him access to his files.  
  
Xander opens a series of folders to reach a familiar file entitled "Xander." When he had first started living with Adam and Cassandra he had suffered from chronic nightmares and insomnia getting maybe two or three hours of sleep each night. They had approached him about it concerned that his lack of sleep would lead to his early demise. Adam had suggested a journal to write down the dreams and the reason why he couldn't sleep saying dreams have no power over you once you understand that they are just dreams and that writing them down would give him control over them. So it was with that suggestion that Xander Harris decided to start an electronic journal. Mostly because he was tired of not sleeping but partly because he couldn't read his own handwriting so writing it down electronically would be the only way he could look back and read what he had written.  
  
Opening the file he begins to write.  
  
It's been a while since I've written in this but I think that I'm going to need to start writing here again.  
  
The dreams have come twice this week. Dreams that keep me awake at night when I should be asleep. Adam says that I took a very substantial Quickening and that it's normal for stuff to come out of the woodwork so to speak. Cassandra had offered to help clear some of it out but I said no, I should be able to deal with this by myself. I mean I did it before, right? So I'll live.  
  
Now where was I? Oh yeah, the dream or in this case the nightmare. I'm in a dark room, I'm not sure it's a room, its too dark and I don't see any walls. The only thing enclosing me is the darkness so I'm going to say that I'm in a dark room. Even though I can't see anything I know something is there, in front of me, behind me, at my sides, all around me in the darkness trapped just as I am, only whoever or what ever it is feels completely at home in the darkness.  
  
That's when I can hear it moving, shuffling around in the darkness, I never see it but I know its there. Watching, waiting for the right time, that's when I hear it. The sound that only an Immortal can understand, the sound that induces both excitement and fear, the sound of a sword being unsheathed. I feel my sword in my hands suddenly as if I had drawn my sword at the same time only I don't remember drawing my sword. Then again the movement has become second nature for me so maybe I had unconsciously drawn my sword as a reaction to the sound.  
  
I turn around in small circles trying to get the sounds to stay in front of me but they keep moving and now they echo all around, it's hard to pin point and hard to follow but I try to anyway. That is when I feel it, cold metal on my neck, and then I wake up.  
  
I don't think that it is the dream that is bothering me, though. I think that maybe it's the fact that I'm waking up alone. I had gotten used to sharing my bed with her, her presence was warm and comforting. Something I could use right now. I miss her, I miss everything that we shared, I miss that I could look into her eyes and see the affection and love in them.  
  
Listen to me! I'm talking as if I'm mourning her passing! She is alive and well and part of my life still. We still share things, only not on the level that I'm accustomed to. I must have patience. She fell in love with me once, I'm sure she'll end up doing it again eventually. I just have to wait.  
  
Suddenly very tired Xander pauses his typing and yawns. Taking a deep breath he looks over what he just wrote. Satisfied with what he sees he saves the document and closes the program. After shutting down his computer he just sits there a while staring at the blank screen. Patience. If Adam and Cassandra were able to wait nearly three thousand year to find each other, then he should be able to wait however long it takes for Faith's heart to find it's way back to him. It's just hard to watch someone you care about everyday and know that the potential for love is there and not being able to say or do anything about it.  
  
Yawning again Xander decides that going back to sleep isn't such a bad idea after all. Slowly getting up he makes his way back towards his room. He stops at Faith's door and quietly opens it sticking his head in. She is still facing her open window, her back facing him but the only difference is that the colors outside framed by the window are now softening with the early morning. Thinking that he could probably get another hour of sleep by the looks of things he takes one last look at Faith before closing the door. Her hair cascades down her back and onto her pillow much like the way it would on his chest. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes he burns that picture into his memory. He closes the door and walks back to his room and closes the blinds. Moving back to his bed he slides underneath the sheets and lays his head down on the pillow. As he drifts off to sleep he thinks back to when he and Faith slept in the same room together and how he would fall asleep gently stroking her hair. Those are the last things he thinks of before going to sleep.  
  
  
  
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Down the hall Faith stirs quietly as she dreams. Images, sounds and words all come at her.  
  
She is in a dark alley; she can fell herself breathing hard. She turns to someone and says. "You know you shouldn't be running with pointy objects like that, let alone riding around on a motorcycle, you could poke your eye out"  
  
The man grins back and tells her "I seriously doubt that."  
  
The scene changes and fades into another. She is lying down in bed and a man, Xander, asks her, "Do you like jazz?"  
  
Sleepily and quietly she responds to him, "Mmmmm, I love it."  
  
"Then you'll like this." Xander tells her and the room is filled with soft piano notes, slow, relaxing and beautiful. The music seeps into her allowing her to float with the music. She can feel his warmth next to her as he slides into bed next to her. Like a moth to a flame it draws her to him, using his chest as a pillow she falls asleep listening to the sounds of the music and his heartbeat.  
  
Those are the last things that linger in her mind as Faith stirs and begins to wake up. As her eyes flutter open and adjust to the early morning light the images from her dream disappear into the void of her sub- coconsciousness. Outside she can see the breath-taking scene outside her window. The sun not quite ready to rise causes the sky on the horizon to turn a rosy pink and the sky high above slowly changes from black to dark blue. For the first time she can remember she has a home and someone who honestly cares about her well being. But all of that cannot explain why every morning she awakens with the strange and empty ache inside of her, an ache that brings her nearly to the verge of tears.  
  
Turning over and closing her eyes she tries to fall back asleep. As she does so she can feel a single tear fall down her cheek. As sleep begins to take her once more she wonders why does the ache leave so quickly when she sleeps?  
  
  
  
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Far away, nestled in between the hills located between the countries of Scotland and England, lies the town of Skipton. Atop a rocky bluff with long sloping ground to the front and a steep nearly sheer precipice falling to the Eller Beck behind lays Skipton Castle. Once used to repel attacks from bordering Scotland, the castle has now been turned into a tourist attraction where almost all of the castle's rooms are available for public viewing.  
  
However the castle has another purpose. Beneath the rooms of the ground floor are hidden rooms and alcoves. Places where many hid during the Battle of Bannockburn where the first Lord Clifford of Skipton, Sir Robert Clifford, was killed. The rooms are still in use today only not to hide from intruders trying to attack the castle but to hide the actions of a group with close ties to the Clifford family.  
  
The Clifford family is an old and powerful presence within the Council of Watchers. George Clifford the third Earl of Cumberland and Queen Elizabeth's champion had been the head of the Council until his death in sixteen hundred. Though no longer in control of the Council, Skipton Castle remains an important meeting place for the Council of Watchers when absolute secrecy and discretion is needed, and today that is exactly what the Skipton Castle provides.  
  
In one of the hidden underground rooms the Council of Watchers have met. Far above their heads, tourists move about the castle grounds staring in wonder at the magnificence of the medieval architecture none of them suspecting the ulterior motives of the men and women far beneath their feet.  
  
The room is lit much like the way it would have been lit in the thirteenth century, with torches all around the room. The circular table gives no clues as to the station of those sitting around it save the eight-foot tall high backed chair flanked by two smaller six-foot high backed chairs on either side. These spots reserved for the five members of the council chosen to lead the Watchers, the other spots at the table are reserved for the lesser positions of power within the council.  
  
Quietly from doors hidden by the shadows members of the council begin to fill the seats, each of them had come to the castle under the disguise of tourism but their unique knowledge of the Castle allowed them to navigate their way to the hidden chambers unnoticed by the people wandering about the Castle. As soon as all the members were seated the man sitting on the eight-foot high backed chair quickly whispers a few words.  
  
The center of the table is adorned with a metal design of a large triangle surrounded by a dragon; in the center of the metal triangle is the All Seeing Eye. Around the outside of the table are smaller circles in front of every chair each with a smaller representation of the design in the center of the table. After finishing his words the eye begins to glow, capturing the attention of all those present.  
  
Murdoch the oldest living member and leader of the council, states loud enough for all to hear, "I Murdoch, leader of the High Council of the Watchers hereby call upon all those present to begin this meeting as the Council has throughout the ages."  
  
Placing his hand on the circle in front of him the All Seeing Eye lights up as well. "In the beginning the fires of Hell rampaged throughout the land, demons and evil saturated the earth."  
  
The person to his right continues, "It was during this time that the greatest warriors of the Heavens descended onto the mortal plane, driving the evil back to whence it came."  
  
The person to his left places her hand onto the symbol in front of her and speaks, "However the warriors of Heaven realized that they would not be able protect the Earth themselves."  
  
To the far right of Murdoch Quentin Travers stands up placing his hand on the symbol in front of him and continues with the story. "It was then she was born, from the ashes of the great battle the Slayer was created with the strength and power to fight the darkness."  
  
To his far left a young woman places her hand on the symbol in front of her, "But the Slayer was savage, uncontrolled and wild. It was then the warriors called upon mortals to guide and bring direction to the Slayer."  
  
The others at the table all place their hands on the symbols in front of them as they all say in unison, "We hold the line against the darkness, we stand between the Heavens and the Abyss and we alone carry the mantle bequeathed to us by our ancestors. We are the Watchers, trained from birth to lead and guide the Slayer in the battle against the darkness."  
  
As they finish chanting the symbol on the center of the table brightens and flashes, a bright yellow momentarily filling the room. As the light dies down the All Seeing Eye in the center of the table continues to illuminate the room. Some of the others begin to walk around the room putting out the torches save the ones that frame the exit from the room.  
  
Once they are seated Murdoch turns to face Travers and asks him, "So tell me Travers, why have you called a meeting of the High Council and the Lesser Council today and why did you insist on using a protection spell that hasn't been used for over six hundred years once we all get here?"  
  
"As you all know that the responsibility for finding and stopping potential threats to humanity has fallen upon me, much as it did for my father, grandfather, great-grandfather."  
  
The young woman to Murdoch's far left cuts him off, "We are well aware of your pedigree Mr. Travers. Could you please, as the Americans say, cut to the chase?"  
  
"I was only providing my background on the subject Ms. Johnson. In case anyone would think of questioning my research or the validity of my claims."  
  
Sighing like he was a parent among bickering children Murdoch stops the potential argument before it even starts. "No one here will question your claims Mr. Travers. I am just curious to the reason of this meeting the amount of security you have requested."  
  
The gathered Watchers murmur their agreement. The Oath of Loyalty is a ritual used only when the greatest of secrecy is needed. The Oath forces the knowledge that is given at the time of the ritual to be shared with other Watchers and the Slayer. Should the Watcher attempt to give the information to someone other than a Watcher under duress or under their own volition the Oath will cause that Watcher's blood to boil and heart to stop, or that is what the books say.  
  
"I have reason to believe that Glory has begun her search for the Key."  
  
The shocked silence that fills room confirms the severity of the situation. Lauren Fletcher, the older woman to Murdoch's direct left, addresses Travers directly, "Are you certain? The Demon Goddess has not made an appearance for quite awhile."  
  
Travers motions to his assistant standing behind him who begins to hand out files to those sitting at the table. Once each person at the table has one Travers begins his explanation, "The pictures you see are pictures of a very old monastery. From what we were able to garner from our research the monks who reside there house and protect The Key. If you turn to the next picture you will see that same monastery three days ago."  
  
Some gasp while others pale as they look at the pictures. Where there was once a beautiful monastery now was a building in rubble. Bodies lying and the floor missing limbs their faces frozen in horror by the rigor mortis, it is a sight that would make even the most hardened of field Watchers sick to their stomach.  
  
"We believe that Glory is responsible for the destruction you see."  
  
Mr. Ratcliffe, the man sitting between Murdoch and Travers asks, "But you said earlier that Glory has begun her search for the key. I take it then that she did not succeed in obtaining it from the monks?"  
  
"I do not believe so. The room that we suspected the Key to be located was left unguarded."  
  
"How could you tell?" Ms. Johnson questions Travers.  
  
"There were no dead bodies outside the room. We followed Glory's path to the room. She went directly to the room as if she knew where to look but once there it seems that she punched one of the walls in frustration."  
  
"Frustration?"  
  
"Ah yes, well actually it looks like she knocked it down. We think however that some of the monks were able to escape the slaughter."  
  
"How could you tell?" Ratcliffe asks.  
  
"My team was able to find traces of tracks leading to the woods around the monastery, in the woods we were able to find blood and torn pieces of cloth that matches up with the tunics worn by the monks. My guess is that they took the key and fled."  
  
"Do we know where?"  
  
"Unfortunately no." Travers answers. Murmurs fill the room as all those present whisper quietly to each other the seriousness of the situation. Glory, the Goddess from the demon dimension, is now out and actively searching for the key to return to her home. Humans, Vampires and even the stronger demons all have weaknesses. But to fight and win against a God? No Watcher or Slayer has ever gone up against such power; few Slayers live past their first fight against a Master Vampire.  
  
Murdoch asks Travers, "What do you expect us to do Travers? The Alpha line is currently operating without the direction of the Council and the Beta line is currently rogue whereabouts unknown."  
  
"The current Slayers Buffy and Faith are definitely of no use to us." Travers answers. "But that is the reason I requested this meeting of the High and Lesser Councils." He pauses briefly, "I propose that we activate the Delta line."  
  
The outburst that fills the room is of no surprise to Travers. What he had just proposed is something that was unfathomable to many in the room. Then again the existence of two Slayers was once unfathomable as well.  
  
"What you are saying would dilute the Slayer line even more than it is already! How could you even think of that as a possibility?" A member of the lesser council exclaims.  
  
A purist, Travers thinks to himself before finding the right words for a rebuttal. Right when he found the proper response someone else answers for him. The older woman on the High Council Lauren Fletcher says, "I hate to say this but I believe that Mr. Travers' suggestion is the most prudent one."  
  
Murdoch softens a bit as he addresses Ms. Fletcher, "Are you sure Lauren? Jacob would have been against."  
  
"Jacob is dead Murdoch. My husband was short sighted when came to many aspects of the Slayer, I do not have those faults." She answers crisply.  
  
Murdoch sits back in his chair and says, " Very well then, I'd like to hear your arguments in favor of this course of action. Who will argue against?"  
  
"I will." Ms. Johnson answers.  
  
"Good. Mr. Travers?"  
  
"The Council has been weakened severely due to the fact that both active Slayers are outside of our sphere of influence. The dismissal of the Watcher Rupert Giles only drove the Alpha Slayer Buffy Summers farther away from the Council rather than too us. The Beta Slayer Faith spiraled out of control and was lost to us as well."  
  
Pausing for a moment Travers lets his comments sink into the collective minds of his audience. "Without a Slayer we can have no direction. As Watchers we cannot hope to have any type of success against the Goddess Glory, we need to have a Slayer to spearhead the attack. Therefore I think it is prudent that we activate a third line, the Delta line so that the Council will have a Slayer during this dangerous time."  
  
"Thank you Mr. Travers. Ms Johnson?"  
  
"The activation of a third line of Slayers would severely affect the abilities of all three Slayers. The Alpha and Beta lines now show the potential and ability to fight Glory and survive. By adding a third line we would take away from the other two. The proposed Delta line will not be able to face Glory by herself and survive. We need to rebuild the Council's relationship with the Alpha and Beta Slayers in order to deal with the current situation."  
  
Turning to the face the table Murdoch asks, "You all have heard the arguments for and opposed to Mr. Travers' idea. All in favor of the idea?" Murdoch silently counts the number of hands raised. "Those opposed?" Murdoch silently counts the remaining hands even though there is no need.  
  
"The Council vote is dead locked, half for and half opposed. As leader of the High Council I shall be the deciding vote and I vote in favor of Mr. Travers' suggestion." Looking over to Mr. Travers Murdoch says to him, "Your request has been approved Mr. Travers. Go ahead and call a third Slayer. Pray to the powers that be that you idea works Travers, if it fails it just might mean the end of us all."  
  
  
  
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Xander's eyes open as he wakes up. Sitting up in bed he stretches and looks over at his clock. Seeing that it is about eight o'clock Xander mentally chides himself for sleeping so late. However he realizes that he is feeling better than he has all week and thinks to himself that a few hours lost to sleep really didn't hurt anyone.  
  
Getting out of bed he walks over to his dresser and opens one of the drawers and pulls out a pair of warm-ups. Opening another he pulls out a shirt. Quickly changing Xander walks out of his room and into the hallway. Quietly passing Faith's room so that he wouldn't wake her Xander makes his way to the workout room.  
  
Walking down the stairs Xander goes through a few breathing exercises to prepare him for his workout. As he begins his breathing exercises, he remembers the time when Adam had explained to him the importance of breathing.  
  
  
  
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"Xander listen to me this is important. You need to know how to breathe correctly." Adam scolds.  
  
"It's not to difficult Adam," Xander says sarcastically, "Breathe in, breathe out. In with the good air, out with the bad."  
  
He was about to add to his witty commentary when Adam suddenly attacks him. The attack is so fast and furious Xander is only able to let out a surprised "Eep!" before trying to run away from his mentor.  
  
Xander tries to flee but Adam keeps pressing on forcing Xander backward. Adam speaks to him while attacking showing no strain or exertion at all, "Breathing is the key to any situation Xander. The human brain has engrained in it the fight or flight reaction to every situation."  
  
Adam pauses slightly to let Xander to get a few breaths before starting his attack again. "You either face the situation or run away from it. Through breathing and mediation you will be able to control the fight or flight mechanism in your own brain." Adam goes through a flurry of quick punches before Xander feels the pull of gravity and the hard floor at his back knocking the wind out of him.  
  
Standing above him looking down, Adam tells Xander, "Breathing is the source of power, stamina and focus. Breathing will help you take control of the situation giving you the choice to run away or face it, never forget that." Seeing Xander still gasping for breath and nodding Adam tells him, "Now, are you ready to learn how to breathe?"  
  
  
  
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He was halfway through his morning kata by the time he sensed Faith at the top of the stairs. His movements are slow and deliberate, his breathing matching his movements. He has a nice sheen already on his forehead as he begins to move into the final stages of his kata. He can only wonder what he looks like to Faith who is still standing at the top of the stairs. When he had seen Cassandra and Adam go through the same kata he looked on in awe at the precise beauty of the exercise. He could only hope that he is doing the kata the same justice.  
  
Usually at the end of the kata he would usually meditate for a while during which Faith would quietly make her exit and return to her room and come out and meet him in the kitchen as he made his way up the stairs. She had been doing this ever since they returned, today however he thought that it was time to change things up a bit.  
  
Without opening his eyes or turning around Xander says, "Would you like to join me?"  
  
The comment almost catches Faith off guard, still surprised by the fact that Xander knew that she was there. She had discovered Xander's morning regimen by accident when she had awakened early one morning. She quietly tiptoed to Xander's room to see if he was awake or not and was surprised to see him gone. Searching the rest of the house she found him down stairs in the workout area in the middle of a complicated martial arts exercise.  
  
His movements were graceful and sure. Each movement's purpose and form clear and precise. Simply put, it was beautiful. She could appreciate the physical attractiveness that Xander possessed but it was the kata itself that stood out in her mind the most. The sheer determination and discipline that it takes to learn such katas is tremendous. She herself had only attempted to learn one of the katas that her first watcher had tried teaching to her but she had found the exercise tedious and boring. She stopped trying to learn the kata altogether opting rather to use her innate Slayer abilities to help her fight. What Xander was doing was beyond her, she could admit that, but the beauty of it was stunning. So stunning in fact that she made it a point to watch him in the morning as he practiced.  
  
He would finish his kata and then sit in the middle of the room and meditate. Every morning she would quietly slip into the room, sitting at the top of the stairs watching him perform his beautiful dance. He never once even acknowledged her presence during his workout sessions. That is until today.  
  
Xander turns around slightly and looks up at her. "That is unless you like to watch? But I find working out with someone is much more fun."  
  
Faith can feel a smile tug at her lips at Xander's words. "Its not like I don't like to play, its just that I don't know how to play that game."  
  
"I could teach you."  
  
"I don't think so, that stuff really isn't my style."  
  
"Why is that? I know you know how to fight."  
  
"That's the point, I know how to fight. I'm not that great with the non- confrontational stuff."  
  
Xander walks over to the stairs and looks up at her, Faith notices that the look in Xander's eyes has changed slightly, as if he knew something she didn't, "I think you'll manage. Why don't you come down here? Life isn't always about fighting, you might find that you actually enjoy it."  
  
He reaches his hand up to her as an open invitation his words reverberating in her mind as if she had heard them some where before. Faith stands there a moment, looking at his outstretched hand before bringing her own hand up and into his. The moment of contact sends sparks up her spine as he walks her to the foot of the stairs. The gentle tug to the center of the room warms her as she releases the breath that she didn't know she was holding.  
  
Now standing in the middle of the room Faith reluctantly releases Xander's hand and asks him, "Okay how do we start?"  
  
"First you have to learn how to breathe. Are you ready to learn?" Xander asks her.  
  
Taking a deep breath and then releasing it she nods, "Show me how to breathe."  
  
  
  
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Quentin Travers walks into a room bustling with activity. His team of researchers have been combing over the ancient texts to see if they could find any loopholes or even any catches they might have missed that could hinder the calling of a third Slayer.  
  
The Slayer could naturally be called when the former Slayer dies. At that point the new Slayer's powers would be activated and then would be trained on how to use them properly. But there were two Slayer lines now: The Alpha line, or Buffy Summers, and the Beta line, Faith. The Summers girl, according to Mr. Giles' explanation, died temporarily only to be revived a short time later. However her "death" was enough to call forth the new Slayer, Kendra. Her subsequent death at the hands of the vampire Drusilla called forth Faith as the new chosen one.  
  
Since Summers had died of natural causes the second Slayer was called naturally. Upon hearing of the existence of two slayers the Council had been up in arms. Should Summers dies again would that mean another Slayer would be called again?  
  
After a much-heated debate it was found that the death of Buffy Summers would not result in the calling of a new Slayer. She had died and her mantle was passed on to Kendra and from Kendra to Faith. So the terminology that the Council had adopted for the two Slayer lines is actually wrong. Buffy is not the Alpha line and Faith is not the Beta line. Rather Buffy is Alpha Major and Faith is Alpha Minor. Two parts of the same line, what Travers believes is that when Summers dies her mantle will be passed to the other active Slayer thus bringing the line back to a single person.  
  
However the task Travers has set out to accomplish is one that is both dangerous and unnatural. In the ancient Watcher texts are stories as passages that refer to the Council, during times of grave importance, forced the calling of another Slayer while the primary line was active. The necessary ingredients for The Calling were easy enough to obtain and the presence of the existing Slayer, or in this case Slayers, is not needed. The ritual would take something from the active Slayer and then pass it on to the vessel that they wish to endow with the power of the Slayer. Since the new Slayer is not called naturally, should she die, a new Slayer is not called.  
  
However according to the old texts the process is a long and strenuous one and incredibly painful for the active Slayer. The process actually rips away a small part of what is needed to activate the next Slayer. Since that part of the Slayer is engrained onto her physical and metaphysical self do so would cause pain beyond belief. But such is the price to pay in order to protect the world. Sacrifices must be made.  
  
"How much longer until we can begin?" Travers asks one of his researchers.  
  
"At least one more day. We want to do this the right way or we'll end up with no Slayer at all."  
  
"Good, we'll play it safe. We need a Slayer in top condition if we are going to stop Glory."  
  
"Sir?" The researcher stops Travers before he walks off.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you really think that this will work? Activating another Slayer I mean."  
  
"Of course it will work, it was shown in the ancient chronicles that it would work."  
  
"But the chronicles say that it is potentially dangerous not to mention painful for those involved."  
  
Travers sighs as though he s talking to a little child. "Tell me, what is that thing you are holding in your hand?"  
  
"This?" The researcher asks holding up the hand in question.  
  
"Yes, that."  
  
"It's a pencil."  
  
"What do you do when the pencil gets dull?"  
  
"I sharpen it."  
  
"Good. Now what happens if you break the pencil, or if it becomes too short to sharpen or better yet if I take it from you? What happens when the pencil is no longer useful to you?"  
  
"I get a new one."  
  
"Precisely!" Travers exclaims. "That pencil is a tool. When a tool is longer useful it is time to get a new tool to replace it. The Slayer is a tool to fight evil, Buffy is no longer under Council control and Faith has disappeared her whereabouts currently unknown. Both are no longer useful to us therefore it is time for the Council to get itself a new tool."  
  
"But the pain must be unbearable."  
  
Sighing once again Travers takes a moment before speaking. "The Slayers are tools. It is the tool's purpose that is important, not what it feels, its purpose. The right tool in the right hands is nearly unstoppable. Right now the most able hands of the Council is without a tool. Our goal is to provide the Council with a tool. A tool to defeat Glory, I hope you're getting all this because I really don't want to go through it again."  
  
"Yes sir, I understand now, sir." The researcher answers hoping to help himself out from the scrutiny he is receiving from Travers.  
  
"Some how I doubt that, but I'll leave you at that." Walking around to inspect the rest of the progress being made Travers makes several mental notes of which team members are working especially well marking them for more involvement later on as his plan begins to take shape.  
  
He is leaning over a table inspecting a scroll when he glances up and sees another figure descend the stairs into the room. He stands and straightens out his coat as he walks over to his colleague.  
  
"Lauren! So good to see you again, I'd like to thank you for your support with the Council. I really appreciate."  
  
"Can it Travers. Jacob never liked you and I never really liked you either, but I agreed with your position. Do not mistake agreement for friendship."  
  
Bristling slightly Travers responds coolly, "Yes, I see. Nevertheless I thank you for your support. No matter how unexpected the source."  
  
"I have my reasons for supporting you Travers, none of which you could possibly understand. I am here to check on your progress in the matter, nothing more."  
  
"Of course. My team has reported that we should be ready to begin within a day. After we gather the necessary ingredients we will proceed with the ritual."  
  
"Good. Keep me informed on your progress. I wish to be present for the ritual as well. Can that be arranged?"  
  
"Of course, I will personally tell you when it is being held."  
  
"Have we found the next vessel?"  
  
"Yes. She will be present tomorrow as well."  
  
"Good. Until tomorrow then." With those last words Lauren Fletcher turns on her heel leaves the room the same way she came in, ascending the stairs up into the darkness. As she disappears, Travers wonders about the reasons that Ms. Fletcher must have for supporting him before he goes back to his inspection of his team's work.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Lauren Fletcher stands before the large portrait of her husband that she had placed in the study. She looks up at it, her eyes longing for her husband who has been gone for so long.  
  
"I'm sorry Jacob, I know that you wouldn't have wanted it this way, but it had to be done."  
  
Looking up at the portrait a single tear falls down her face.  
  
"I'm so sorry Jacob." She whispers as she fingers a small frame sitting on her desk as the first rays of sunlight begin to spill over the horizon.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
When Faith walks into the kitchen that morning she finds that Xander is already up and talking lividly to Adam on the phone.  
  
"I will not put Faith or myself in this kind of situation! What do you mean it's not going to be so bad?" Xander listens to what Adam has to say, "Of course it will! We'll get used to it? I'm sorry but we don't have the experience with this kind of stuff that you and Cassandra have." Xander listens again before exclaiming into the receiver, "Then why don't you two do this! Fine! I'll do it but I won't force Faith to do anything she doesn't want to do." Pulling the receiver away from his head slightly before speaking into it again he says, "Okay, I promise I'll at least ask her, but I won't guarantee anything."  
  
Hanging the phone up on the cradle Xander sighs and mutters, "Damn old man, I can't believe him!"  
  
Faith decides that now would be the best time to make her presence known, "Hey Xand, something up?"  
  
Spinning around quickly Xander sees Faith leaning against the doorframe. "Uh, not really its just Adam just called." Seeing her eyes squint slightly he can tell that she doesn't believe him, "How much did you actually hear?"  
  
"Something about not forcing me into any situation that I don't want to be in and you say that you would at least ask me if I'd do it. But from the way you told Adam it didn't sound like you were going to ask me at all." Faith says a little mad at Xander for automatically assuming that she wouldn't do it. She was far from invalid and could make her own decisions.  
  
"How do you know that I wasn't going to tell you?"  
  
"I've been living with you for few weeks now Xander, I know you better than you think."  
  
Seeing that he wasn't going to win this one he concedes. "Well Adam had faxed something over this morning and had asked us to take care of it, I told him no and that I wouldn't put you in this kind of situation."  
  
"As cute as I think it is that you are trying to protect me from something Xand, I think that you should remember that I am a Slayer. You know? Fights evil dark creatures and a large assortment of things that go bump in the night."  
  
"I know that, it just."  
  
"I can handle it." She says plainly.  
  
"I don't think so." Xander tells her.  
  
"You don't think so?" She asks Xander seeing the fire that comes to her eyes when someone challenges her.  
  
"I know so."  
  
"I'm going to do it then." She says defiantly. The moment she says it though she sees the look in his eyes and immediately regrets saying them.  
  
"You asked for it." He says grinning handing her the fax.  
  
Looking down at the piece of paper Faith falls into a nearby chair and pales. "You've got to be kidding."  
  
"I told you, but now you're stuck with it." Xander tells her as he starts to make breakfast. Faith looks down at the paper again and thinks to herself what have I gotten myself into?  
  
"Adam thinks we'll need some training for that. The address and phone number for a few people are at the bottom. I think the first one is our best bet."  
  
Faith just looks at Xander as he beats eggs for breakfast and then back down at the paper in front of her and she thinks again, what have I gotten myself into?  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Faith is walking down the sidewalk and her heart is threatening to jump out of her throat. She has faced all matters of evil and demons but she has never, ever, faced anything like this before. This is something so frightening that she doesn't think that anyone could be brave enough to face it.  
  
Xander who is walking by her side must have noticed her tension, leans over and says softly in her ear, "Lighten up Faith, you've faced much worse before."  
  
"No I haven't."  
  
"Sure you have." Xander says with a smile playing across his lips  
  
"I'm glad you're enjoying this Xand."  
  
"Don't blame me, miss I'm a Slayer and I can, how did you say it?"  
  
"Don't start with me Xand."  
  
"Oh yeah I remember now, I am a Slayer and I fight evil dark creatures and a large assortment of things that go bump in the night. OW!" Xander says rubbing his arm where Faith had punched him. "What was that for?"  
  
"I told you not to start with me so I decided to stop you. You're lucky that I haven't bailed out on you." She tells him.  
  
"I know you better than that Faith, you wouldn't bail on me unless something killed you. You said yes and now you have to stick with it."  
  
Growling under her breath she continues to walk.  
  
"What was that?" Xander asks  
  
Turning to face him she sweetly says, "I was just wondering when we were going to arrive at our destination."  
  
"Somehow I don't think that is what I heard, but to answer your question, we're here."  
  
If at all possible Faith's heart beats even faster than before. Xander opens the door for her and she walks in. He leads her up the stairs to a room on the second floor of the building; the stairwell isn't lit very well with only a single light fixture on the wall working correctly. They arrive at their destination and Faith can feel her hands trembling because she is so nervous.  
  
The door opens and Faith's first reaction is to turn around and try to bolt, but Xander is able to snake his arm around her waist pulling her back to his side. She throws him a dirty look as he smiles at her. A woman appears at the door and introduces herself.  
  
"Hi! Welcome to Arthur Murray Dance Studios! My name is Melanie, are you here for the Ballroom lessons?"  
  
Xander can feel Faith trying to run again so he tightens his grip on the dark haired slayer's waist. "Yes we are. I'm Harry and this is my wife Amanda." Xander introduces himself and Faith.  
  
"It great to see young couples like yourself learning how to ballroom dance." Melanie says with bubbly enthusiasm.  
  
Faith gives her a saccharine smile as Xander pleasantly tells Melanie, "Actually we have to go to a fund raiser that will have a live big band with a large dance floor. So rather than sit around during the whole function we thought it would be best to learn how to dance to the music."  
  
"Well you've come to the right place! We're going to get started soon. Before we start though have any of you had any dance training?"  
  
Both shake their heads no, "That's okay, since you're married I won't have to worry about you two feeling comfortable with each other no do I? Now lets get started, shall we try a simple Foxtrot?"  
  
Leading the young couple onto the dance floor Melanie preps the two on the correct dancing position. "Okay now I'll need you guys to get into dance position. Do you know what that is?"  
  
Seeing the blank look on their faces Melanie sees that she'll need to be more proactive in this situation. "Okay, in that case, turn and face each other. Good, now move a little closer you are married you know." Melanie says lightly.  
  
"Now Harry I want you to take your right hand and place it on Amanda's left shoulder blade." Xander does what he is asked and places his hand on Faith's back. He is reveling in the feeling of the proximity of Faith to him until Melanie's voice and hand moving his brings him back to reality.  
  
"Harry don't you know where a shoulder blade is?" Faith suppresses a shiver as she feel's Xander's hand move across her back. She is so focused on the feeling as it runs through her body that Faith doesn't hear Melanie's next instructions.  
  
"Amanda? Are you listening?" Faith turns to Melanie with a blank look on her face.  
  
"You need to put your left hand on Harry's shoulder."  
  
Faith quickly responds and puts her hand on Xander's shoulder. She can feel his musculature underneath his shirt as she places her hand on his shoulder. She can feel the muscles shift as he adjusts his arm still trying to find the correct position on her back, his hand sending little sparks throughout her body.  
  
Finally Melanie instructs them to bring their other hands up and demonstrates the correct position to hold their hands. After a few tries, and a few pointers from Melanie, Faith and Xander were finally able to get into the ready position almost automatically.  
  
Stepping back Melanie looks at them with pride, "Perfect! Now this is what we call a 'frame' a frame is basically how partners fit together. You two have a great frame. How does it feel to you?"  
  
Xander looks at Faith and says, "Like a perfect fit."  
  
Faith can only return his gaze for a moment before she turns away trying suppress the shivers she can feel trying to make their way to the surface in response to Xander's remark. Looking at Melanie she smiles and answers, "It feels good."  
  
"Good!" Melanie responds. "Now let me go see what music I have and we'll start with a foxtrot."  
  
As Melanie walks away, Xander can feel Faith's hold on him loosen and he too releases his hold on her. It was a reminder of how close she was to him but still far enough where he couldn't do anything to act on his feelings. The position reminds him so much of the way they slept together, the way his arm would stay warm resting lightly on her back. Knowing that he was in a dangerous position he lets his arm slowly slide from her.  
  
As Xander's arm leaves Faith's back she feels her self shiver slightly because of the sudden loss of warmth. Again for the second time that day, Faith can feel the emptiness inside of her, the feeling that is present every morning when she wakes up. But before she can figure out what the source of the feeling is Xander's hand on her shoulder shakes the feeling away.  
  
"Hey are you okay? I mean if you don't want to do this we can stop now." Xander tells her.  
  
Faith tries to search for the feeling for a moment but finds that it is gone. Turning her head to Xander she smiles slightly. "What? You're going to give up? Afraid of showing me your amazing dancing skills?" She pauses a moment before her grin turns into full smile when she says, "I've heard the legends of the infamous snoopy dance."  
  
Her smile grows even bigger when she sees the slightly annoyed look on his face. "I'll have you know that the snoopy dance is a very complicated movement. It takes concentration, discipline, focus and."  
  
"A complete lack of rhythm?"  
  
"and a complete lack of.No! I have rhythm! Damn good rhythm at that!" Music starts in the background as Xander says to her enjoying their verbal sparring, "Besides, how do I know that you're not trying to use my supposed lack of rhythm to hide the fact that you're frightened to dance ballroom?"  
  
Faith's retort is cut short by Melanie's return. "Okay I put some music on but we'll ignore it for now. Get into ready position. Good! Now to foxtrot you need to just remember slow, slow, quick, quick, slow." As Melanie begins to teach the two how to dance she can't help but smile. Out of all the people she likes to teach the young couples are probably her favorite. The love that they feel for each other, the ease that they fall into each other's arms, the easy comfort that can be found only with young love, it just warms her heart. It wasn't long until the young couple is gliding around the floor stepping lightly with the music.  
  
Melanie watches from across the floor as her newest students chuckle about a missed step and continue on. "Young love." She says with a sigh. She looks at the young couple again before turning to the music collection, she can tell by just looking at them how much in love they really are.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Lauren Fletcher sits at her desk. The only source of light is a fire blazing in the room's fireplace. Her desk is cluttered with her work, all of which has been forgotten for now. Her chair tilted to the side, she is leaning back with a small picture frame in her lap. Her arm moves to the small tumbler sitting on her desk half filled with amber liquid. Taking a sip from the glass she feels the fire of the liquid running down her throat, burning away her sorrow and anger.  
  
She is about to take another sip of the strong liquid when the telephone on her desk rings. Looking at the caller ID she sees the number originates from the Watcher network and picks up the phone.  
  
"Hello." She speaks into the receiver.  
  
"You asked me to tell you when we were ready. The ceremony will begin tomorrow evening at Fountains Abbey."  
  
"I'll be there." Is all she says before hanging up the phone. Gazing down at the picture frame on her lap she whispers softly. "Soon my love, soon."  
  
  
  
. 


	2. Chapter 2: The Calling

Title: Falling Toward Apotheosis 

Title: Falling Toward Apotheosis 

Rating: R 

Author: Banquo 

Email: banquo@fanfiction.net 

Summary: Xander and Faith have returned home after the events of "Leaves of Grass" but all is not as it seems. Dark dreams and plans set into motion allude to the danger that waits beyond the horizon. 

Disclaimers: I own nothing except the story and all the characters I create in between. Buffy and all character related there in belong to Joss and Mutant enemy. While the concept of Immortality and all characters pertaining to Highlander belong to Panzer-Davis. 

Archive: Go right ahead! Just email me a link where you plan on archiving my fic. 

I've been working really hard on this story and I hope it is living up to everyone's expectations. If you read this story please review, I really do want to know what my reading audience thinks of my fic. Feedback is an author's greatest addiction, however only you readers can feed this addiction so please review! 

… 

The darkness has come for him again. 

It is as if he could not hide from it, not matter where he ran no matter what he tried to do it came for him. He could hear the things around him the sounds of screaming and pain. He could feel the heat of the fires but there is no light, he is isolated in a world of darkness. 

If he tried to reach out and feel for the sensations and sounds all that would greet his fingertips at each turn and step is the nothingness of air. The heat against his skin is almost searing but if he tries to reach out for the flames they are not there. 

Of all the sounds that he can hear one drowns them out every time; the sound of a sword singing against its sheath. It is a sound that released an instinctual reaction in all immortals, a reaction that had been engrained in their minds since their rebirth into Immortality. The sound brings a sword into his hands immediately, ready for a fight, ready to battle for his life again. 

Sword in hand he waits for the battle to begin straining his ears against all the sounds hoping for an indication, anything that could point out the direction of his unknown adversary. The heat is almost unbearable as he hears movement to his left. 

He tries to track the movement trying to keep the sounds in front of him but they come at him from all angles. The noise he hears to his left suddenly comes from the right and then back again. He moves as fast as his reflexes will allow jerking his body from left to right, spinning around as the sound comes from behind him. 

"If you want to fight then come out and do it!" He yells at his unseen opponent slashing at the air when he hears the sounds get closer and closer. 

The moment he says those words he feels the coldness of steel against his neck. Acting entirely out of reflex he brings his blade up and back twisting his body away from the cold metal and knocking it away from him with his sword. He backs a way a few steps in the darkness hoping to put some distance between his unknown adversary and himself. But it is to no avail, as he backs away he once again feels the cold metal against his neck. 

This time however he does not have the time to push the blade away, it moves on its own accord away from his neck leaving slight burning sensation in its wake. Moving away again he brings his free hand to his neck and feels a warm stickiness. Bringing his finger to his mouth he tastes the fluid confirming his suspicions, blood. 

Again he hears the sound of a sword cutting against air and the burning sensation hits his hamstrings and suddenly his legs can no longer hold his weight. Falling to his knees he hears the sound again but this time is able to block the blade. The ringing of metal against metal is not even gone from his ears as he feels his hand go limp and his forearm burn with pain. Another whip through the air and his feels his back open up just to the side of his shoulder blade causing his arm to go limp at his side his blade dropping to the ground. 

He can feel his clothes sticking to him, his blood soaking the cloth weighing it down against his skin. His wounds are only barely beginning to heal themselves as he hears footsteps approach him. Suddenly in the darkness he can see something, light, he can see light being reflected off of the blade of his opponent. No, not reflected, the only other thing he can see is the blade. He watches as the blade comes to a stop in front of him and then raises high above him. 

All he can do is watch in horror, his muscles no longer responding to the commands his mind sends to them. He is kneeling in his blood pooling beneath him. The only thing he can do is to fall backward to evade the blade as it falls toward him. The movement saves his life but the blade imbeds itself deeply into his thigh, severing arteries and nerves as his leg instantly goes numb. 

His body shuddering from the shock and loss of blood he turns his head to the side and sees his sword. Weakly he is able to move his arm and reaches for his fallen weapon. He realizes that the blade is just out of his reach as the point of another sword comes into view. As he lies on the floor, helpless, he realizes that there is nothing left for him to do. As the blade once again rises in preparation for the descent that all Immortals dread, the last cut that would take his head and release his quickening. 

The blade falls, cutting through the air causing a sound that has now long become familiar to him. In a split second the sword will be at his neck and his life would be over. 

Xander bolts straight up in bed, his breathing labored, soaking in his own perspiration. His heart races in his chest as he can hear the blood pumping in his ears as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Focus. Breathe. His breathing slows and eventually so does his heart. Gaining his composure he opens his eyes. 

Damn, I'll have to change the sheets again, he thinks to himself as he gets up and out of bed. He makes his way to the bathroom and towards the sink. Turning on the cold water he cups the liquid in his hands and splashes it onto his face. He repeats the actions again and again feeling more and more refreshed with each splash of cold water. Turning off the water he reaches over for a towel and dries his face. 

Looking at his reflection in the mirror he says, "They're only nightmares, dreams." 

Walking out of the bathroom and out of his room he makes his way to his study repeating the only words he could think of for the past two nights, "Only dreams, they're only dreams" 

… 

Inside of a nondescript shop in Sunnydale a phone rings. The shop's owner answers the phone with a cordial greeting, "The Magic Shop, how may I help you?" 

"Giles? Is that you old boy?" 

"Julian! How are you?" 

"I'm doing fine, and yourself? How's your new shop?" 

"I'm doing fine and the shop is running quite nicely thank you." With the pleasantries over Giles says, "It's quite late for you right now isn't? What did I do that required a call at such a late time?" 

"Something is up Rupert. Something big." 

"How so?" 

"The High and Lesser councils met at Skipton to discuss some kind of plan of action." 

"Skipton? My word, if both councils met then it had to have been important. How did you find out?" 

"I have friends who guard Murdoch, not the brightest bunch and very talkative but nice enough." 

"Did your friends know what the meeting was for?" 

"No but I was able to do some digging and I think I may have found something." 

"What did you find out?" 

"Mr. Travers has been spending an inordinate amount of time in the archives and my contacts there tell me he and his team have been researching for a few months now. Apparently he is researching the Calling." 

"The Calling? Why would he do that? Does the Council know if Faith has passed? Buffy is still alive I spoke to her a few moments ago." 

"No as far as I can tell Faith is still alive. I think he is trying to activate a new Slayer without one of the other ones passing." 

"Do you have any idea of how he plans to do this?" 

"No but I think it will happen soon. Watch yourself Rupert, keep your ward safe." 

"Thank you Julian I will. You watch yourself as well Julian, you already know too much." 

"I will, cheers." 

"Cheers." 

Giles sets the phone down on its cradle and contemplates his next move. Moving to the back of the store Giles opens a safe and pulls out a few books. Closing the safe and walking back to the front of the store he begins to do the only thing he can do until he sees Buffy later on in the evening, research. Opening his book he hopes to find something helpful before then. The Calling of another Slayer is potentially the most dangerous thing that the Council has ever attempted, and that fact worries Giles to no end because he has no idea how it would affect his young ward. As her Watcher it is his duty to protect her, but how do you protect someone from the unknown? 

Sighing Giles turns to his books and finds comfort in his research. Hopefully he'll find something, anything to help him protect Buffy from the Council's plan. 

… 

Across town Buffy is sitting in her class bored out of her mind. Ancient Eastern Civilization, it's a class that Giles would rave about of course but all of the Chinese Dynasties just rolled on and on and on. Mentally kicking herself she tried to pay attention to the lecturer. Sure she needed the class of one of her breadth requirements but was it really worth of this incredible boredom? Thanks to Willow's amazing note taking skills last quarter she didn't even have to take notes in lecture, she even didn't have to read the assigned readings. She wouldn't have come to class at all had it not been for Willow's threat to take her notes away and thus forcing her to go to class and take notes herself. Sighing she tries to pay attention. 

Twirling her pencil idly she imagines how she would fight off a vampire attack inside the sloped lecture hall. Buffy eye's the entrances and exits throughout the lecture hall finding the most likely points of attack. Buffy sits forward in her chair and eyes the bolts holding the chairs to the ground. Nope too strong to tear off of the floor to use as a weapon she thinks to herself. The only weapons at her disposal in the lecture hall are her skills and a lot of number two pencils. She is halfway through her battle plan when she hears the people around her beginning to shuffle their papers in anticipation of the end of lecture. 

"And that brings us to the end of the Golden age of Chinese civilization." The lecturer says, "Homework for tonight is to read chapters six through eight and be prepared for a Q and A session in your discussion section." 

Packing her stuff up she makes her way into the herd of students shuffling slowly out of the lecture hall. Done with her classes for the day she makes her way towards the dorms to put her stuff down and plan the rest of her day out before she goes out on patrol. 

As she walks through the commons she makes a mental list of things that she could do with the rest of her time. It's a beautiful day, the sun is out and it isn't too hot, its a day that screams out saying that you should be outside enjoying it, she needed to stop by her mom's house later on but that was later. Passing by the bookstore she sees the flower stand. Looking at the flowers she knows exactly what she can do to pass the time. 

Twenty minutes later Buffy is walking down a familiar gravel path in one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries. As she rounds a familiar corner she is not in the least bit surprised to see a familiar red-headed figure sitting at the foot of her destination. 

"Hey Willow." Buffy said sitting next to her good friend and placing the flowers that she had bought earlier. 

"Hey Buffy." She replies. 

"You just had to get outside and enjoy the day too huh?" 

"Yeah, after I got out of my last class and saw how nice it was I just had to spend the rest of the day outdoors." 

"Same here, on my way back to the dorm I passed the flower stand and thought it would be nice to visit Xander." Looking over at Willow she notices her somber mood and asks her, "Willow? What's wrong?" 

"It's nothing, it's just…" 

"Just what?" 

"It's days like these that make me miss him so much Buffy." Willow says nodding over at the direction of the headstone 

Not wanting Willow to fall deeper into her reverie Buffy says, "But Xander wouldn't have wanted you to be sad on a day like this, he would have said `Wills, it's a beautiful day out lets go do something!" 

Her words effects on the young witch are the exact opposite that she was expecting, Willow's shoulders slump slightly and her head falls a fraction of an inch. "That is exactly it though Buffy, when we were little on days like these he would walk over to my house and ask my mom if I could play. I never wanted to you know but every time Mom let Xander come up to my room and he would say `It's a great day outside for an adventure!" 

"I would always say no to that one, I told him that I didn't want to have an adventure. Then he would say that it was a great day to be outside and I told him that I didn't want to go outside. But then he would say the one thing I could never say no to." 

"What was that?" Buffy asks her curiously. 

"It's a great day to be with a friend." 

The silence that hangs between the two young women as they soak in the discrete wisdom of a friend long gone is almost tangible. Willow's thoughts are that of a time of innocence long past, a time where she, Jesse and Xander would play and laugh, unknown to them the dangers and horrors of the Hellmouth. The only thing that mattered to the three of them was their friendship. Now looking up at Xander's tombstone and turning her head to the left she can slightly see Jesse's tombstone as well. She was the last one left, the only one who could remember the good times. It was when she thought of this did Willow miss Xander the most; it was then she felt the most alone. 

Buffy's arm around her shoulders brings Willow back to the present. "Xander was right, today is a good day to be with a friend." 

The two young women lean into each other for support as they quietly sit in front of the grave of their fallen friend. 

… 

Faith was sitting on the floor of the workout room sipping a bottle of water as she watches Xander continue on with his workout. For the past few weeks she joined Xander in his daily routine. She was very surprised at the amount of stamina he had, every time she would workout with him she could only keep up with him for so long before she had to stop and rest. To his credit Xander would only look over at her and nod as he continued on with his exercise waiting for her to rest up and return to the floor to finish the workout. Xander had taught her the entire kata in just a few hours due to her natural fighting ability, but she was far from perfecting the motions. 

It was during times like these that she reverted back to just sitting and watching Xander as he moved gracefully across the floor. She watches as the muscles in his arms flex and relax in turn with the movements, with a an eye that only develops with training she watches his center of gravity shift seamlessly from position to position. As a physical specimen he is perhaps as close to perfect as she has ever seen, a fact that has not been lost on her. 

Enough of that girl you so do not need to go there, Faith chides herself. Realizing that she is staring Faith quickly averts her attention elsewhere before Xander can see her staring. As Xander continues on with his workout Faith steals a few glances at him as he moves. 

Damn, he's filled out, she thinks as she watches him out of the corner of her eye. Listen to yourself; you're acting like a little schoolgirl. But even as those thoughts flit across her mind she can't stop herself from stealing looks at him. 

"You going to sit there and stare all day?" Xander's voice draw's her attention, "Or are you going to join me on the floor?" 

Faith blushes slightly thinking that Xander had caught her staring at him, but the easy smile on his face tells her otherwise. Quickly regaining her composure she replies, "Oh definitely on the floor." 

"Now that is so not fair." Xander says the grin never leaving his face. 

"What are you talking about?" Faith says with as much innocence as she can muster with a broad smile on her face. 

"You know what I'm talking about. No fair using feminine wiles while working out, it gives you an unfair advantage." 

Leaning in she says to him in the sultriest voice she can manage, "But I'm just a girl and I need all the advantages I can get." She bats her eyelashes just for good measure. 

"Yeah right and I'm Carson Daly." He says sarcastically, "You ready to get started? You're the one who wanted to do this you know." 

Straightening out and stretching slightly she tells him, "I know, I know, but I was wondering something this morning as I made my way down here." 

"What?" 

"Why are you doing all this?" She asks. 

"I'm not sure that I understand your question, doing what?" 

"The training everything, why are you doing this?" 

He looks at her as if she were crazy, "I'm an Immortal. It sort of comes with the territory you know?" 

"That's not what I mean and you know it, being Immortal is one of the reasons you are doing this but it isn't why you are doing it. I talked to Cassandra and she told me that most Immortals your relative age only know one martial art, she told me you know five not counting the weapons training you have. She also told me that most young Immortals focus mostly on their physical training but not you. If the books upstairs give me a clue of how much you've studied then you've put away more knowledge than a college grad. So what gives?" 

There is a moment of pregnant silence as Xander looks at her gauging her with a tired far off look. Sighing he asks her, "When did you become so insightful?" 

"You tend to pick up a lot from Cassandra. That and because back in Sunnydale you never had this kind of…" She pauses a few moments looking for the right word "…drive." 

"You're right I didn't." 

"So what changed?" 

"I died." He says somberly. "It took my death to make me realize that I could change who I perceived myself to be." 

Seeing that Faith was waiting for him to continue he tells her, "But I didn't come up with that by myself. I didn't figure that out until about three or four weeks after my death. Adam said something to me that just made it all click." 

"What did he tell you?" 

Doing his best impression of Adam's English accent and all Xander says, "A friend of mine once said `Where does the difference between past and present come from? The laws of science do not distinguish between the past and the future. Yet there is a big difference in ordinary life. You may see a cup of tea fall off a table and break into pieces on the floor. But you will never see the cup gather together and jump back onto the table." 

A look of confusion appears on Faith's face. "I'm not sure that I follow." 

"I didn't either until he explained it to me, the past is different from the present only because of the amount of chaos that emerges from the structure that was the past. The cup of tea may break and shatter into a million little pieces, but it didn't mean that I had to as well. Once I figured that out it gave me the chance to do what I always wanted to do." 

"And what would that be?" 

"I know this will sound kind of corny, but to be more than I was to be more than I ever thought I could be. I don't know if any of this is making sense but that moment I decided to pick up what I thought were the broken pieces of my life and sculpt them together to make a life for myself, a life that I could be proud of." 

"I can understand where you're coming from Xand," Faith says pushing stray hairs from her face and tucking them behind her ear. "When I woke up the only thing that I wanted to do was make things right, to go back in time and change things so that everything would end up differently. I wanted to make a life for myself where I wasn't hated, where I wasn't the bad girl, where I had friends to turn to. Basically everything I didn't have." 

Seeing that her attitude has sobered a bit Xander tells her, "But you have that now right?" 

Nodding she says, "I guess I do." 

Smiling at her Xander says, "We're a couple of kindred spirits aren't we?" 

The smile brings warmth and a feeling in her chest that she can't describe as she answers, "I guess we are aren't we?" 

"Come on lets get started." Xander tells her gently grabbing her hand and leading her to middle of the workout area. Once there they stop and Xander faces her and asks, "Ready?" 

Faith looks at him a moment before answering. She and Xander really were kindred spirits maybe that was why she was drawn to him that night in her motel room. Maybe if she didn't throw him out of the room frightened by the look of adoration in his eyes he would have been there to help her when she needed it most instead of fighting the devil and loosing. Looking at him just for a moment she shakes loose the regrets and what ifs that linger and answers, "Yeah I guess I am. Let's dance." 

Xander leans down and pushes the play button on the small CD player and music fills the room. It is a slow and beautiful song as they move into each other's arms and move music. 

Some day, when I'm awfully low,When the world is cold,I will feel a glow just thinking of you...And the way you look tonight. 

"I'm going to try a turn ok?" Xander tells her. 

"Lead away." 

Xander lifts his arm enough to allow Faith to pass under it and spin out slowly and with a gentle tug Faith follows mirroring the previous movement ending up secure in Xander's arms once again.Yes you're lovely, with your smile so warmAnd your cheeks so soft,There is nothing for me but to love you,Just the way you look tonight. 

"You're really getting good at this you know?" Xander says to her. 

"Thanks, you're not so bad yourself." She replies 

"But you've got an unfair advantage, heightened Slayer abilities and all…" 

"And what about you and your Immortal training hmmm?" 

"Point taken." 

With each word your tenderness grows,Tearing my fear apart...And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,It touches my foolish heart. 

Their movements are complementary as they dance across the workout area. They move to the old music in style of dance that is dated but that doesn't matter to the pair. They are together in each others arms gliding softly to the music each having complete trust in the other's skills as they move. 

If Xander pulled Faith would follow, if he pushed she would move away. If he paused she would pause with him. Lovely ... Never, never change.Keep that breathless charm.Won't you please arrange it? 'Cause I, I love you ... Just the way you look tonight. 

"I'm going to dip you okay?" Xander tells her softly in her ear. 

"Go ahead, just don't drop me." 

"When have I ever dropped you?" He says his voice full of humor, "Besides I'll be there to catch you if you fall."Mm, Mm, Mm, Mm,Just the way you look tonight. 

Xander's left hand goes up and signals to Faith to begin a turn. However this time Xander doesn't let go spinning her around in his arms. His lead hand guides her right arm around his neck and his arm cradles her back across her shoulder blades while his other arm moves to her waist distributing her weight evenly between his arms. Leaning into his arms she leans back as he slowly leans forward dipping her slightly. 

As the song changes to the next track on the CD all that Faith can feel are Xander's arms around her the way his arms support her and the way she feels inside. 

… 

As one walks toward the location of Fountains Abbey one can see the great tower above the tree line giving the illusion of a small chapel jutting out of the woods. As one approaches the site however they can see the steep path that leads to the valley below where the abbey's true size lies hidden. 

The abbey, hidden away from the outside world by the wooded valley of the River Skell, has lain away virtually undisturbed for nearly five hundred years. When the first settlers arrived at the site where Fountains Abbey would be erected they described the area as `A place of horror and vast solitude, uninhabited for all the centuries back, thick set with thorns and fit rather to be the lair of wild beasts than the home of human beings.' 

Only few of the original monks who had begun to cultivate the land for the grand abbey knew of the true history of Skell Wood. It was said that this site was once an open portal to Hell, opened by Nergal himself. The portal allowed demons to enter the realm of man and cause chaos and havoc. This portal was so important to those in the demon world that it was rumored that Adramalech was appointed to safeguard the portal allowing the continued passage of demons onto Earth until a mortal soul passed through the portal and into hell. 

As more and more demons began to pour onto the Earth the heavens sent a lone Archangel to combat Adramalech and to close the portal forever. The intense battle was waged for more than two days with heavy damage dealt to both sides. At the end however it was the Archangel who prevailed. Seeing that there was no way to kill Adramalech and close the portal the angel drove the demon lord and himself into the portal. But before they fell through the angel was able tear off its own wings forcing himself to become mortal and thus closing the portal and trapping Adramalech and himself in hell. 

When the portal closed the valley of Skell Wood was left. As the millennia passed the wood began to grow covering the spot where the portal had once existed. Though the portal was closed long ago the residual energies left over manifested over the land as a focus point for the natural power drawing "wild beasts" to it. The monks who had built the abbey had designed it to harness these powers. To all those who would see the abbey would see its association to the church with it's grandiose architecture and holy symbols strewn throughout the building. But very few would know that the ones who were in control of the building was the Council of Watchers. 

Fountains being built on such a large manifestation of spiritual energy gave the Watchers a location to perform more difficult spells and rituals by tapping into the energy that had saturated the area so many years before. The Watchers have used Fountains for this purpose through the centuries; tonight they will once again use Fountains for their magical needs. 

Lauren Fletcher thought of the great abbey's history as she roamed about the west range, her steps echoing between the great stone pillars and walls. At the moment she is underneath the main dormitory, removed from the ritual being performed in the Chapel of Nine Altars on the opposite side of the abbey. The ritual had actually started earlier that day but the preparation and the time it took to forcibly call the next Slayer into existence was considerable. She had already waited three hours for Travers' team to finish the ritual before she began to wonder about the old place of worship two hours ago. 

She finds the simple, clean design of the Abbey refreshing. Symmetrical and imposing, Fountains is quite an impressive sight. The tightly laid stones forming the vaulted ceilings, creating lines and order, giving one a sense of awe, knowing that the entire building was built by hand, before the modern machines and technology. 

Yes, the ancient knowledge that had been passed down from generation to generation of builders seemed to culminate here. Now the Council has returned to this place to use the knowledge that had been passed down to them through the ancient texts and journals to call forth the Slayer. 

Lauren smiles to herself at that thought. 

The ritual itself is very familiar to her. Her late husband Jacob was enamored with the old texts, his first assignment as a young man was translating the ancient journals. Ever since then he had been a glutton for the history of the Watchers. It was that zeal that had earned him the title of lead historian, responsible for the great library of Council and everything enclosed thereof. It was there that she had learned of the particular ritual that Mr. Travers and his team were about to partake. 

Upon her husband's death she had taken her husband's duties as lead historian. When she had learned that someone within the Watchers had been inquiring about spells and books that referenced the calling of the Slayer. Using her position to discreetly discover who was looking for this information, when she had discovered it was someone from the High Council she began to put her plan into motion. A plan that needed the right catalyst and now, thanks to Mr. Travers, she has it. 

As the chanting echoing off of the walls grew louder she realizes that her catalyst is about to take place. She makes her way towards the nave giving her a full and clear view of the East Window and the Chapel of Nine Altars. In the center of the chapel a young woman stands between two pillars. Looking at the way the girl is standing she quickly reassesses that the girl is actually chained to the pillars. Looking at the assembled Watchers she cannot see Travers anywhere near, undoubtedly he had left earlier knowing his impatience. If the ritual's results were what she expected however, it was fortunate for Travers that he isn't here. 

The chanting continues to grown in strength as she can feel the power of the land begin to add to the power being collected by the spell casters. Closing her eyes and remembering her Watcher training, she uses her mind's eye to bring a forth an image of the spell's power. Each of the casters is a deep blue along with the power they are collecting. Below them is the swirling cloud of white energy, pulsing sending out tendrils that latch onto the spell casters binding them together in a large matrix of combined energy. 

She can hear the chanting grow in strength again as now the collected power begins to manifest itself in powerful windstorm, the energy coalescing to a focus point just above the young woman. A powerful blue light forms just above her, each passing moment giving it a more solid form. The energy seems to solidify in form but its translucency allows those around to see through its murky body. The form becomes more detailed and life like as two eyes open on the head that has formed. The form turns into a body of that of a woman, energy crackling around it as it slowly descends to the ground. 

Once it's feet touch the ground the spirit turns and gazes upon the young woman who is tied down in front of it. The girl is crying and is frightened, that much Mrs. Fletcher can tell. The spirit floats around the young woman, appraising her, looking her up and down, as one would inspect a purchase. As if approving of the offering before it the spirit begins to glow brighter and rises into the air. It circles around the helpless girl who is only able to look above her with horror. 

The spirit's eyes are two orbs of fire as the power within the floating form spills through the only openings on the spirit's body. The Watchers continue to chant as the spirit floats down to face the young woman. It reaches out and wipes the tears away from the young woman's face. The girl smiles just before the spirit floats away from her and glides around behind her. The girl smiles comforted by the kind gesture, maybe the worst of it is over with. 

At least that is what the girl thinks until she realizes that the Watchers have stopped chanting. The ruins of the old buildings are completely quiet and looking around at the Watchers around her she can sense a feeling of apprehension fall onto the chapel. Struggling against her bonds she tries to escape the fate that waits for her. 

She finds the ropes holding her in place too strong and she hangs her head down submitting to the fate the Watchers have cut for her. It is in that simple action that she catches a glimpse of what the Watchers had planned for her as her elongated shadow moves as the source of light rapidly moves toward her. 

Lauren watches as the spirit floats quietly away from the young woman until it is thirty or forty meters behind her just floating. It was then everything at Fountains stopped. 

All sound, all movement, everything. 

And with a speed previously hidden by the spirit's slow and lethargic movements, the being moves as a blur of speed to the young woman. The girl arches her back and screams as the spirit implants itself inside of her. 

"And so it begins," Lauren Fletcher whispers. 

Above the great ruins of Fountains storm clouds form and mute the colors of the night sky, blocking the moonlight and twinkling of the stars. The clouds continue to grow larger and begin to pulse with power as wind causes the clouds to spin in a tight circle. 

On the other side of the world Buffy is at her mother's house preparing to run some errands when it starts. A wind picks up inside of the house moving furniture and toppling frames and plants over. 

A few hours away Faith is in the training room when the weapons on the wall all begin to shake and rattle from their mountings. As they fall to the ground a strong wind blows Faith to the ground. 

The wind continues to pick up in strength until Buffy and Faith are both pinned against a wall and the young woman at Fountains is driven to her knees. Suddenly a spear of energy rips through the ground and shoots upward through Faith's torso. Back at her mother's an energy spear also shoots from the ground through Buffy impaling her. At the same time two energy beams spear the young woman at Fountains pinning her like an insect to the floor of the abbey. As the beams grow brighter lightening shoots from the ground up as Buffy and Faith scream in unison. Lightening follows the energy beams like a lightening rod enveloping the young woman her screams harmonizing with the pain Buffy and Faith feel. 

The lances continue to pulse and act as lightening rods the energy arching upwards away from Faith's body. She reaches up and tries to grasp the pole of energy but is only greeted with the pain of electric shock, the flesh on her hands burning with energy. It was almost as if had closed an open circuit allowing even more energy to course through her and up the spear causing her to scream out in pain as tears streak down her face. 

Buffy is writhing in pain as she feels the energy rip through her taking small pieces of her own energy with as it travels upward through the ceiling. The pain is so great that she can no longer use her other senses. The world is becoming darker and indistinct and has grown mysteriously silent replaced by the searing pain of the energy tearing away at her mind, body and spirit. 

At Fountains the young woman convulses against her bonds and the two spears of energy that hold her in place. Her wails of pain bring no reaction, compassionate or otherwise, from the assembled Watchers. In the background as the scene continues to play itself out is Lauren Fletcher looking on waiting anxiously for the situation to play itself out to the end. 

The door to the Summer's house flies open as Buffy's mother rushes in to her home. The fearful thoughts running through her mind are confirmed as she sees her daughter impaled by a spear of energy with a look of unquestionable pain on her face. 

"Buffy!" She cries out as she moves to try to help her child. 

Through the fog of pain Buffy can barely hear her mother cry out her name. As the world comes to focus for a few precious seconds she says with what strength she has left to her mother, "No! Stay back!" 

Unheeded by her warning Joyce Summers rushes to her daughter's side reaching out to her hoping to help her in some way if not only to comfort her. But as her hand touches her daughter the connection is made and the energy surges through her exploding at the point of contact throwing the elder Summer's across the room and into the opposite wall. Her last sight is of her daughter screaming out loud before she blacks out from the impact. 

A small hand picks up a nearby phone and dials the only number that she can think of to find help for the situation. 

"Giles! You've got to help me! Buffy is in trouble! We're her in the house, mom tried to help her but she was thrown away and is knocked out, you've gotta get her quick, I don't know what else to do!" Dawn listens for a few moments as Giles tells her to do. "Got it, please hurry!" 

Running in to the kitchen Dawn pulls out a bag of frozen mixed vegetables and runs to her mom. Laying her out she puts the bag on her head hoping to reduce the swelling from the blow to her head. Seeing that her mom is a comfortable as she can get her she picks up the phone and dials a second number. 

"Come on, come on! Please be there." She says impatiently to the ringing. When someone answers immediately explains the situation, "Willow! Thank God that you are there! Buffy is in trouble and Giles in on his way my mom is unconscious and I need your help!" Taking a deep breath she listens to Willow before continuing, "I don't know big energy pole thingy has Buffy trapped and when my mom tried to help her she was thrown across the room. Can you hurry please? Ok I'll be waiting, Giles should be her soon." 

Hanging up the phone Dawn continues to tend to her mother while watching Buffy out of the corner of her eye. She flinches every time she hears her normally strong sisters cries out in pain when the lance of energy flashes periodically. 

Upstairs in his study Xander was researching some stocks on the Internet. The recent correction in the market left some really strong stocks in a very low position, a position that would be perfect for investors like himself to capitalize on to have some good returns. 

The crash from the workout room didn't concern him too much he knew that Faith tended to train really hard and it wouldn't be the first time that she had broken something in the room while training. Grinning Xander gets up from the computer and walks over to the door hoping to catch Faith off guard to tease her a bit. The grin on his face quickly fades away when he hears her scream filter to the top of the stairs. Xander's walk breaks out into a full out run as runs to the door. The sight that greets him is one that chills him to the bone. 

Faith is practically floating in the air with a beam of energy lanced through her. The beam pulses with energy, every so often the beam would pulse strongly and Faith would cry out in pain. Without hesitation Xander rushes down the stairs and bounds toward Faith hoping that he would be able to help her. 

Somehow through the haze of pain Faith is able to feel Xander's approach and turns her head. The look of pain and hopelessness on her face only urges Xander forward as the beam pulses again causing Faith's features to twist in pain. 

Faith sees Xander trying to come to her rescue and weakly says, "Xander don't!" 

Her warning however doesn't slow Xander's approach, the only thing he can hear are her cries of pain and the only thing he can think of is to save her, to protect her from the pain she is feeling. Just before his hand connects with Faith a streak of energy arcs to meet him. 

The charge is strong enough to stop him dead in his tracks. He can feel the air around him crackle with energy as the power continues to arc into him, building, until it reaches a critical point. For Xander it is something he can feel coming. 

He is not disappointed as the strong charge finally releases its energy in an explosion that sends him flying against the wall with a loud crack and a small streak of blood as he slides down. He lands in a heap with the weapons on the floor barely conscious as his blood spills from the wounds on his head. 

Xander reaches out with his hand and starts to crawl towards Faith still determined to help her. The pain he feels with each movement lessens and lessens as he inches his way towards Faith. His healing beginning to take care of the injuries he had suffered but the loss of blood is beginning to take its toll as he looses feelings in his arms and his vision starts to blur. 

Faith turns her head weakly and sees Xander's futile attempts to save her. The pain she feels in her heart at the sight is a thousands times worse than what beam of energy coursing through her body could ever inflict on her. 

With all the strength she has Faith reaches out and cries out loud, "Xander!" 

Xander can see Faith call out his name and he too reaches out to her, "Faith!" 

Faith finally succumbs to the pain and blacks out, the last thing that she sees is Xander collapsing on the floor as he reaches out to her. I'm sorry Xander, she thinks as the blackness overtakes her. 

Xander seeing that his strength is tapped out does the only thing he can think of, he reaches down finding the source of his power, the power that helped him defeat the demon possessed Master. Reaching deep down he feels the steady hum of his quickening as it heals his body. Reaching out to the pulsating power of the quickening he looses himself in the power. 

The power surges through his body allowing him to animate previously unresponsive muscles. Staggering to his feet, his stance unsure, one arm still limp at his side Xander begins to stagger forward. One step turns into two, two to three, with each step his strength increases. Xander's stagger begins to become steady as his quickening continues to provide him with the energy to fulfill his only objective; save Faith. 

Across town Adam and Cassandra's heads jerk up suddenly as they feel the power of teir young student increase suddenly. The two older Immortals say nothing as they head straight to the garage to drive over two Xander's home. Xander had to be in trouble if he was forced to use the full power of his quickening. 

Xander continues forward towards Faith his strength increasing with each moment that passes. As he reaches Faith he can feel the energy around her emanating from the energy lance speared through her body. Again he feels the energy reach a critical point as it arcs once again towards him. Remembering the strength of the last blast Xander readies himself. 

This time however the energy is much stronger, strong enough to push Xander backwards shielding his eyes from the bright energy. He can feel the energy rippling over his skin, burning and stinging him. In turn Xander reaches even deeper, dipping farther into his quickening for strength against the onslaught attacking him and Faith. 

Xander approaches Faith a third time the power around her stronger than ever, as if the energy was building a defense in response to his increasing power. This time however Xander is not going to let the energy overpower him. Focusing his energy he readies himself for the onslaught of the energy approaching him. 

Suddenly his quickening becomes a tangible thing, living and breathing as he does, moving with the commands his mind gives it. He breathing slows controlling the urge to run away from the energy flashing towards him. He raises his hands up and screams, a scream deep and guttural, a scream that is almost primal as the energy lances at him 

The shadows around him quickly disappear as the energy races toward him. The energy baths him in a eerie white light paling his skin and clothes as the energy snakes to and fro on its way to its target. Xander's hair is blow backward as the air in front of the energy is pushed forward in a great burst of wind. The energy is almost upon him Xander's screaming increases giving him focus and direction. As the bolts of energy reach him Xander catches them with his hands and like with a quickening he opens up his defenses allowing the energy to enter him. 

In that moment the energy fills him, threatening to overwhelm his senses, blinding him, deafening him and burning him from the inside out. If anyone could see Xander at this point it would have been a frightening sight. The energy now redirected into his own body crawls over his skin like dozens of snakes. His eyes glowing a bright white as the power he is channeling adds to his already vast stores. 

It is like that Xander slowly pushes against the energy as it surges against him. Step by step, inch-by-inch he moves toward the Faith's body still twitching with the energy being torn from her. The energy being thrown against him surges time and time again trying to dispel the intruder in its space, each time it attacks growing stronger and stronger but Xander barely notices the change as his focus, his only purpose, the only thing in his mind is to save Faith. 

As he closes the distance between them Xander can see the energy spear's light grow more intense than it had ever been previously. Perhaps it senses the fact that Xander is making his way closer to the beam's victim, perhaps it is reacting in the only way it knows how, by increasing the speed and intensity of its process. Although unconscious Faith responds by crying out as beam leeches power from her at an incredibly fast pace. 

In the Summers home Giles looks on in horror and bewilderment as he sees the spear of energy brightens and the power dancing around it grows. Buffy's screams of pain quickly shake him into action. 

Opening a book that he brought with him he beings to chant a spell of protection hoping to defend Buffy from the onslaught. Before he can finish the incantation a bolt of energy causes Giles to stop mid-spell as he drops to his knees and rolls out of the way to dodge the incoming bolt of energy. 

"Dawn! You have to get your mother out of here! Both of you move to the other room!" 

"I can't, she's too heavy, I need help!" 

His gaze darting from between the tree Summers women, all of which whom hold important parts in his life. Looking over to Buffy he realizes there is nothing he can do for her right now and moves to the oldest and youngest Summers women. 

Putting his arms under Joyce's arms he tells Dawn, "I've got her! You go outside and wait for Willow!" 

Giles proceeds to drag Joyce to the other room where she will remain unharmed from the flying debris. Once in the room Giles mumbles a quick spell of protection to safeguard Joyce as she lies vulnerable in the room. Shucking off his jacket and placing it on her Giles rolls up his sleeves and picks up his book. Flipping through the pages he tries to find a spell that will do something, anything to help Buffy. 

Outside Dawn rushes to the pair of witches stepping out of a car. "Willow! Tara! You've got to help Giles!" 

"Dawn what's going on?" Tara questions the young girl. 

"No time to explain," She explains as she grab both their hands and runs into the house and into the living room. There they are greeted by the sight of Buffy floating in the air held up only by a beam of energy. To the side is Giles on his knees his shirt singed and smoking, his familiar glasses on the floor broken at his feet and a spell book in one hand. 

Willow look at each other and nod quickly, they both begin to chant a spell to dissipate the beam of energy holding the Slayer in the air. 

Giles shakes his head and hears the spell the girls are trying to use. His eyes grow wide with horror, "No! Not that spell!" 

Seeing that he is too late to stop them from finishing the incantation Giles scrambles to his feet and throws himself at Dawn. 

Tara and Willow watch on curiously as they finish the spell as Giles knocks Dawn to the ground. 

"Get down!" Giles yells at them. 

Not understanding the motives of the Watcher the two witches look on as their spell begins to manifest itself as blue wave of energy collecting into a single point growing in size and energy until it forms a perfect sphere. Once formed the sphere moves with blinding speed towards the top of the beam. 

"Get down!" Giles screams at them again as he takes them both down to the ground thankful for their close proximity allowing him to force them both to the ground. 

"Giles! What's wrong with you?" Willow yells at him. 

"I tried that spell already!" Giles yells back, "Now stay down!" 

The sphere connects with the beam but instead of stopping the beam the sphere distorts and its energy is unleashed outward a blue flame flows over everything in the room. Powerful wind pushes the individuals away from the beam of energy along with the furniture and rugs on the floor. 

Getting up slowly Giles rushes over to Dawn's side, "Dawn, you okay?" 

"I-I think so." She replies. 

Looking back to the two witches, "What about you two?" 

"I'm fine." Willow answers 

"Me too." Tara answers back. When Giles turns back to Dawn Tara gasps slightly seeing that Giles' back is singed and parts of his shirt are burned away. "Giles! We need to do something for your back!" 

Willow sees what Tara is talking about and they both rush over to the Watcher. "Never mind me," Giles dismisses the pair of witches. Turning his gaze back to Buffy he says, "We need to help her." 

Dawn, Willow and Tara look at the Watcher as he tries to formulate a plan, something to save his young ward but his next words scare them more than any demon of vampire ever can, "But I don't know how to." 

Dawn is in a panic, if Giles didn't know what to do who would? Who would save Buffy? 

Xander was almost there. The energy sears at his face and skin, the wind tries to topple him over like a house of cards but Xander won't have any of it. So focused he is on saving Faith, nothing, nothing in this world could stop him from achieving his goal. 

Reaching out with his hands Xander grabs hold of the energy beam. The energy surges into him latching on to what it can and then rips away taking pieces of him with it. The pain is almost unbearable, almost. 

Xander reaches out with his own energy his quickening flaring in his senses threatening to melt his brain in his skull. He could feel his body beginning to strain under the pressure but he ignored it in hopes that he would be able to save Faith. 

He could feel his power teaming inside of him. He could feel it in his fingertips, his skin, his eyes, everywhere. Focusing all that power into a single point he screams out loud again expelling all the energy he had at once. 

His hair flies backward as he releases a tremendous amount to energy into the beam hoping the amount of energy would feedback into the source disrupting it. As more and more energy is released into the stream the beam begins to change from a bright white to a searing blue around his hands. Xander screams even more as he releases more of his quickening into the energy stream. 

The blue color begins to fly upward into the energy spear as Xander pours more and more of himself into it. At Buffy's house in Sunnydale Giles, Tara and Willow watch on in awe as they see the energy beam begin to change color from the top down. The color reaches Buffy's body and encircles it, protecting her from the white energy of the spear. 

"Giles what is that!" Tara yells over the noise. 

"I don't know, but whatever it is it's protecting her!" 

The trio can only watch as the two energies surrounding Buffy's body fight for supremacy. Up until then they had tried everything they could think of collectively to save Buffy but to no avail. But now some heaven sent energy is battling for her life, together they hope that who ever is intervening on behalf of the Slayer will succeed. 

In Fountains Lauren Fletcher is withdrawing a small sphere from her coat. Quietly saying a few words she had memorized long ago, the orb begins to spin in her hands glowing brightly. Energy swirls to it collecting into the orb as it spins faster and faster. Slowly it levitates from her hand, lifting her hand above her head the orb follows as she readies herself to disrupt the ritual. 

Suddenly the light emanating from the chapel of nine alters changes from bright white to intense blue. Her head snaps toward the chapel in wonderment. There is a way to disrupt the ritual from the site of the draining but it was far easier to do so at the source. To disrupt the power of the draining remotely would require a power so great that Giles couldn't possibly disrupt the ritual. Unless she had underestimated her peer, no, it had to be something else. Could Faith be the cause, could she have fallen in league with something so powerful that it had enough power to disrupt the draining? 

But what could possibly have that kind of strength? What? As another wave of blue energy rippled down the energy spear she understands where the power is coming from. 

Seraphim. The burning ones, beings whose power stems directly from God. 

As another wave of energy falls from the sky it disrupts the energy flow. The energy surges back into the night sky. In the Summers house a wave of blue energy envelops Buffy and suddenly shoots upwards taking the white energy spear with it. Suddenly without the spear to hold her up Buffy's body falls to the ground. Dawn reaches her first, followed closely by Willow, Giles and Tara. All three are relieved by the sudden change of events but are all wary of the energy attack against of Buffy. Whatever or whoever had done it is powerful and whatever caused it stop were just as powerful. 

The power he had released into the energy stream was now returning to him ten fold. His body rebels against the power, his mind screams against it his soul fights against it but there is nothing he can do to stop it. Whatever it is, it is now more than he can handle and all he can do is accept the power surging through him. 

As the energy flows into him he can feel his mental defenses being torn apart. The mental armor he had cultivated over the years were blown away in mere seconds. All the walls, the barriers, all of it washed away clean by the purifying energy coursing through his body. The energy overwhelms him as everything turns white as his senses abandon him with wave upon wave of energy. Suddenly with one final wave of energy and explosion the energy stops. Faith's body falls to the ground at Xander's feet. Still standing Xander's form is smoking; his skin burnt his clothes ripped and burning around the edges. Slumping to his knees he says one word before surrendering to unconsciousness. 

"Faith." 

He finally falls to the ground, his body limp and unresponsive. It is in this condition that Cassandra and Adam find the two on the floor in the middle of the tattered mess that was once the workout room beneath Xander's home. 

Neither of them can even guess at what had done this to them as they carry them upstairs where they can take better care of them. 

The assembled Watchers walk up to the young woman still on the ground approaching her with caution. Something had happened, something that disrupted the ritual, they didn't know what could have possibly happened nor do they know what would become of the young woman before them with the ritual only partially finished. 

The young girl's eyes open revealing them to be a glowing dark blue. The Watcher's all back away instinctively as she sits up and looks around her. With a voice so otherworldly it causes fear to rush through the Watchers' blood the young woman says a simple statement, "There can be only one." 

Lauren Fletcher far removed from the chapel can only hear the other Watcher's cries of pain and mercy as the young woman lays into them leaving only blood and carnage in her wake. With no more targets in her immediate area the girl stops and looks around. Seeing that there was nothing left for her to do here the young woman takes off running into the shadows. 

Carefully walking into the chapel Lauren looks on in horror at the scene in front of her, "It wasn't supposed to be like this." She says to herself in a voice so small she doubted that it even came out of her own mouth. Dropping to her knees crying she sobs for the loss of life that had occurred indirectly at her hands, "It wasn't supposed to be like this!" 

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	3. Chapter 3: Seraphim

Title: Falling Toward Apotheosis  
  
Rating: R  
  
Author: Banquo  
  
Email: banquo@fanfiction.net  
  
Summary: Xander and Faith have returned home after the events of "Leaves of Grass" but all is not as it seems. Dark dreams and plans set into motion allude to the danger that waits beyond the horizon.  
  
Disclaimers: I own nothing except the story and all the characters I create in between. Buffy and all character related there in belong to Joss and Mutant enemy. While the concept of Immortality and all characters pertaining to Highlander belong to Panzer-Davis.  
  
Archive: Go right ahead! Just email me a link where you plan on archiving my fic.  
  
Though this story can stand on its own there are references to my first story so I strongly recommend that you read my first story "Leaves of Grass" which can be found at www.fanfiction.net search for the title and it will appear on the top of the list. Or you can go here directly to get to the story.  
  
For all those who have contacted me about this story, thank you for all of your support and input. I really take all of your suggestions seriously when I sit down to write each chapter. For those who review, please leave your email; I really do try to respond to all feedback that I receive. Now for your reading enjoyment I present: Falling Toward Apotheosis Chapter 3: Seraphim.  
  
  
  
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"HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN!" Murdoch's voice booms through the room, the strength of his voice belying his age.  
  
Quentin Travers winces at the verbal lashing he is receiving.  
  
"I don't know sir, like I explained."  
  
"Yes, your explanation, lets get back to that. I put you in charge of a task force to carry out an order right?"  
  
"Well, yes." Travers answers not liking where this line of questioning is going.  
  
"I gave you access to resources and personnel to help aid you in your task correct?"  
  
"Yes sir you did and I am most."  
  
"Shut up Travers! I'm not fishing for gratitude. I am merely asking how incompetent one has to be to pour valuable resources into a project and not even be there when the task is completed!"  
  
"It's not my fault sir, as I explained."  
  
"I don't care about your excuses Travers, yes Travers EXCUSES. All I've heard from you is excuses and your excuses have cost the Watchers some of its most powerful spell casters! And now we have not one, not two, but THREE Slayers all of which are NOT under the control of the Council, one of which is apparently a homicidal maniac. So again let me ask you HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN!"  
  
Travers is sputtering for an answer to his superior's question when the doors to the head Watcher's private study open revealing Lauren Fletcher.  
  
"Lauren! What are you doing here?" Murdoch says to his long time friend. "I'm in the middle of something here with Travers."  
  
"Murdoch I was at Fountains when it happened."  
  
Murdoch, his immediate anger at Travers momentarily diverted, turns his attention fully to Lauren. "You were there? How did you survive? All of the Watchers present were found killed."  
  
"I was off in the distance away from the chapel when the ritual went sour."  
  
"So you saw what happened?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well out with it, what happened? From all of this moron's research," Murdoch says waving his hand in the direction of Travers, "this should have been an easy ritual! What happened out there?"  
  
Lauren takes a deep breath and steadies herself before answering with one word. "Seraphim."  
  
Murdoch pales as he slowly descends to his seat. "Are you sure?"  
  
"No, but it is the only thing I could think that could create the amount of power I witnessed."  
  
"I'm envious of you Lauren, you have seen what few have and lived to tell about it. Tell me Lauren, did it meet your expectations?"  
  
Nodding her head she answers, "And then some."  
  
"Amazing." Murdoch whispers.  
  
Travers confused and completely lost decides now is the best time to voice his confusion. "I'm sorry to intrude on your conversation but what in the Hell are you talking about!"  
  
"We are talking about something that only two people on the High Council know at a time. The head of the Council, myself, and the Lead Historian."  
  
"Which is me," Lauren adds.  
  
Travers is about to say something else but Murdoch cuts him off before he can start, "Shut your mouth Travers and listen. I am only going to tell you this because I want you to know what it is that will kill you when it comes for you."  
  
"Murdoch, allow me to explain since you are already quite biased in the matter."  
  
Murdoch nods allowing Ms. Fletcher to continue. "Tell me, what do you know of angels?"  
  
"In theory they are the creation of God. They are his messengers and warriors. According to the bible Lucifer was an angel but the Archangel Michael threw him from the heavens. But the Watchers have never found any hard evidence for or against the existence of such beings."  
  
Lauren looks at Travers and nods her head slowly absorbing the answer she just heard. "Well what if I told you that hard evidence does exist and the Watchers have known of their existence for more than a millennia?"  
  
"I would find it hard to believe that I wouldn't have heard anything about it. Especially since."  
  
"You are on the High Council? Yes well, not everyone on the High Council knows everything." Murdoch tells him, "Just like any group that has existed there are factions within factions and spheres of influences that are controlled by a select few."  
  
"These beings do exist and one of them is responsible for your little project's failure," Lauren tells Travers. Walking over to the desk in the room she picks up a piece of paper and a pen and scribbles something down. She hands the paper to Travers. "Go to the archive, I'll make sure my people will allow you access to the proper resources, ask for this old Watcher Diary. It will have all the information you need to know. Now go. Murdoch and I have to talk."  
  
Travers not liking being dismissed like a child begins to protest. "Don't."  
  
"Leave now Travers." Murdoch tells him. Seeing Travers hesitate a moment he says more firmly, "Go."  
  
As the door closes behind Travers Murdoch turns to Lauren and asks her, "You know what this means don't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"May God help us all."  
  
"Murdoch, the only indication that the ritual worked was the way she killed those Watchers. There is no doubt in my mind that she has the abilities of the Slayer. But the natural instinct to protect human life was completely missing."  
  
"Or just suppressed. I knew I should have stopped this Lauren, but it seemed like the best course of action."  
  
"I know it did and that is why I supported it as well."  
  
"We have to stop her now. Did she seem like she had full control of her faculties? Do you think she has the ability to leave the country?"  
  
"I'm not sure. What she did to those Watchers was inhuman but that has no bearing on whether or not she is in control of what she does."  
  
"We need to find her, before anything else happens."  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
In the Summer's residence a small group holds vigil over the two oldest women of the Summer's family while trying to comfort and reassure the youngest. It had been a few hours since the incident that had left Buffy and her mother unconscious. The sun had set outside and darkness was starting to fall over the town of Sunnydale. Soon the darker aspects of the town would begin to fall out of the woodwork and the town's protector lay silent and unmoving in her bed.  
  
Giles walks out of the kitchen and sits down on the couch with a cup of fresh tea. Willow looks at him and sees that he is a little worse for wear. Gone now was his shirt and jacket, which was burned and frayed by the onslaught earlier, replaced by one of Joyce's ex-husband's sweatshirts. How Giles knew where to find it was beyond her but she is glad he was able to change out of his torn and tattered clothes.  
  
Willow looks over to Dawn who has been sitting quietly after finishing cleaning up. Almost immediately after the energy spike disappeared and they had moved Buffy into the other room, Dawn started to clean the room saying that her mother would freak if she saw the kind of mess that was left in the living room.  
  
Turing back to Giles Willow asks, "How are they?"  
  
"Buffy physically seems like she is fine but until I know what happened to her, I wont know any more about her condition. Joyce is doing fine, she has a pretty nasty bump on her head but she doesn't have a concussion at least." Giles answers before taking a sip of his tea.  
  
Willow gets up and sits next to Giles. "And what about you? How are you doing?"  
  
Sighing, he sets down his cup and says, "To tell the truth I've seen better days."  
  
"I know what you mean."  
  
"What about you? How are you taking this?"  
  
"I'm scared."  
  
"Buffy is going to be alright Willow, her Slayer healing is doing it's job. She'll be fine."  
  
"That's not it, Giles. I'm scared because I don't know what the hell it was that had attacked Buffy. I'm scared that if it happens again I'll be as helpless as I was then. I'm scared because something out there was able to hurt one of my friends and I couldn't do a thing about it."  
  
"Vampires and Demons you can see coming for you, but this," Giles pauses a second before continuing, "but this, how do you stop the unknown?"  
  
"I don't know." Willow whispers quietly. She feels Giles' arm around her giving comfort during this difficult time. Leaning into him she smiles and says, "Thanks Giles, but I think there is someone who might need this more than me."  
  
Giles follows her stare and sees Dawn sitting across the room hugging herself. Nodding, Giles gets up and walks over to his second surrogate daughter.  
  
Dawn doesn't even know that he is standing next to her until he asks her, "How are you doing Dawn?"  
  
Slightly startled she looks up and says half-heartedly, "I'm okay."  
  
Giles frowns slightly and looks at her pointedly. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes I'm sure." She says with a smile. However her smile fades when she sees his continued frown.  
  
Giles crouches down until she is almost eye-to-eye with him. "Dawn, you don't have to put up a strong front. Your mother and sister would want you to be as open with me as they would, okay? Now, how are you doing?"  
  
"Horrible." she says quietly.  
  
Sitting next to her, Giles tries his best to comfort the youngest Summers. "There was nothing you could do to stop what happened here Dawn. None of it was your fault."  
  
"I know that Giles, it's just that," Dawn pauses a moment before continuing, "it's just that I've never seen Buffy like that before. I always thought that she would always have this under control, I mean it's what she does right?"  
  
Giles sits next to her waiting for her to continue.  
  
"She's the Slayer, the one who is supposed to protect us all from the bad things. But when I saw her there, helpless, I didn't know what to do. All of a sudden my protector needed me to protect her and I didn't know what to do." Her voice grows quiet with those last words.  
  
"If it helps you feel any better, I didn't know what to do either." Giles tells her gently.  
  
"But what happens the next time?" Dawn asks him, "You don't even know what it was that stopped the attack, if it happens again we wont know how to save her. Maybe next time."  
  
"Stop that line of thought right now, young lady!" Giles tells her. "Your sister is fine and should be up and about in a few hours. No, I don't know what caused this but it was a wake up call for us to be more wary. If there is a next time, we'll be prepared."  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"I promise." He tells her before pulling her into a hug. "What so you say we go check on your mom?"  
  
Visibly feeling better Dawn nods and the two get up to check on Joyce.  
  
Tara watches as the two walk out of the room. Turning to Willow she says, "At least she's feeling better. What about you?"  
  
"I don't know. I'm sure Buffy will be ok but what's bothering me is that whatever did this to Buffy is still out there."  
  
"And that scares you, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yes, Tara. We threw everything we had at that thing and nothing worked! How are we supposed to fight against something that is invulnerable?"  
  
"We don't know that it's invulnerable. We don't even know what that was. All we know is that it was some really powerful magic."  
  
"So how do we stop it?"  
  
"The same way we always stop things. We research, find a weak spot and then take whatever it is down."  
  
"We have a problem though."  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"How do you do research on something you don't know a thing about?"  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Buffy's eyes flutter open. Looking around the darkened room she realizes that she is not in the living room any more. She can also feel her arms being tied down, but looking down she sees that it is only a blanket. She removes the blanket and tries to get up but her body protests so much that all she can do is slump back into the bed in pain.  
  
Downstairs, Dawn and Giles are looking after Joyce when Dawn stops suddenly.  
  
Giles looks at her and asks, "Dawn? Are you okay? Is something wrong?"  
  
Shaking her head no, Dawn stands up excitedly and says, "Buffy's awake!"  
  
With those two words Dawn bounds out of the room and up the stairs startling the two wiccans in the living room.  
  
Willow questions the librarian when he appears at the foot of the stairs. "What's going on?"  
  
"Apparently Buffy is awake," Giles answers.  
  
"Are you sure? We didn't hear anything down here."  
  
"Dawn is sure, but as to how she knows is a complete mystery to me."  
  
He is hesitant to go up the stairs until Tara tells him, "Go ahead, we'll sit with Mrs. Summers until you get back."  
  
With a small smile Giles says, "Thank you." Before he too bounds up the stairs and into Buffy's room. He is just outside of the door when he hears the two sister's banter.  
  
"Ow! Dawn go a little easy on me okay? I'm sore all over."  
  
"Oh! I'm sorry Buffy! It's just that I was so worried about you and when you didn't get up right away I was scared that."  
  
"Hey none of that now. I'm the Slayer remember? There is no way that you can keep my kind down. And on top of that I'm a Summers We're a strong breed."  
  
"I know, but that doesn't mean we can't worry."  
  
"Oh my God! Dawn, what happened to Mom!? Last thing I saw was her coming at me to try to help but after that, I can't remember."  
  
Giles took that as his cue to make his presence known. "She'll be fine Buffy. She has a bump on her head but other than that she's resting quite nicely."  
  
"Giles, what about you? You look like you were hit by a lightening bolt." She says looking at the scorch marks on his arms.  
  
"Unfortunately," He replies holding up his hands, "I was. My own lightening bolt I tried to use to disrupt the thing that had you pinned down."  
  
"Do we know what did this to me?"  
  
"No we don't. I won't know for sure what it was until I do some more research."  
  
"Then how did you stop it?" There is a small silence before Buffy asks again, "How did you stop it?"  
  
"We didn't, something else did." Giles tells her.  
  
"Okay, do we know what it was that stopped it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Do we know anything about what happened?"  
  
"I was actually hoping you could tell us what happened to you. Buffy, this is important; the only person who has any idea what happened to you is you. What exactly do you remember?"  
  
Buffy sits back against the bed's headboard as she thinks about what happened. "I had just returned here to meet my mom. When suddenly there was this bright light.and then, then."  
  
"And then what Buffy?" Giles asks.  
  
"And then there was pain." Dawn's arm quickly wraps around her sister. Buffy leans into her gratefully accepting her sister's strength and support.  
  
"I thought I knew what pain was but this, this was something else all together." Dawn feels her sister shudder against her as she recounts her story. "The pain consumed me, every pore in my body cried for mercy, but it didn't stop. It felt like something reached down inside of me and tried to rip my soul out."  
  
As the memories of her ordeal return to the surface Buffy begins to cry. Dawn does the only thing she can think of and holds her older sister close as she too begins to cry. Giles watches for a moment before he too walks over to the bed and lends his support to the two young women.  
  
"There, there child. You're okay now, right?" Buffy looks up at the man who over time has become much more like a father to her than a Watcher and nods. "Do you feel up to going downstairs to check up on your mother?"  
  
"Yeah. let's. go." She says between sniffles.  
  
They all walk down the stairs and into the dinning room where Tara and Willow are looking after Mrs. Summers.  
  
Willow walks over to Buffy. "Hey."  
  
"Hey." Buffy replies. "How are you holding up?"  
  
"Better than you were," Willow says with a smile.  
  
"How about my mom? How is she doing?"  
  
"She's fine, asleep, but fine. Maybe we should ask the Watchers to come up with a Slayer family medical plan." Willow says to Buffy.  
  
"Willow, that was a very Xanderesque comment you just made. I think he would have been proud."  
  
"I thought you'd like that one. It seems that every time something bad happens he would be able to lighten up the mood with a quick joke you know?"  
  
Dawn cuts into the conversation as well, "It's like his presence alone was enough to lighten the mood."  
  
Buffy and Willow smile at Dawn's comment, turning to her sister Buffy says, "You're right his presence was very." Buffy's sentence trails off.  
  
Giles worrying that she is feeling more repercussions from her attack goes to Buffy's side.  
  
"Buffy, are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, it's just that.when Dawn said that.Oh my God!" Buffy says just before she sways to the side.  
  
"Buffy! What is it?" Willow asks grabbing onto her friend, supporting her.  
  
"Giles, there was a flash and I felt pain. It felt so bad that I passed out somewhere in the middle but towards the end I could feel something helping me, soothing the pain, and then, everything stopped and I passed out again."  
  
"That coincides with what we saw today," Tara tells her. "One moment you were floating in the air the next another burst of energy hit you. At first we thought that you were being attacked again but it was protecting you and suddenly everything stopped and you fell to the ground."  
  
"But the last bit of energy, the one protecting me, it had a presence. I could feel it."  
  
"I suspected that something had intervened in your attack, perhaps the Powers That Be." Giles begins.  
  
"No it wasn't the Powers. It was something closer, something familiar." Buffy says cutting of her Watcher  
  
"Then what was it?" Willow asks.  
  
Looking directly at her friend Buffy answers, "It was Xander."  
  
Willow looks at her friend skeptically, "Are you sure, Buffy? I mean you had just come back from the cemetery, you're not just putting the two together are you?"  
  
"No Willow, I'm sure of it, I could tell he was there."  
  
"But that would mean."  
  
"That even in death Xander is able to help us when we really needed it. Like our own guardian angel." Giles says.  
  
Nodding, Buffy moves to her mother's side along with her sister. They all sit there keeping vigil over Joyce Summers until she wakes. On the table next to the couch Buffy looks at a picture that was taken just before graduation. The picture was of her, Willow, Dawn and Xander. Xander had his arms around Willow's and her shoulders with Dawn standing in front of them. They were all smiling at the camera. His position in the picture reminds her of Giles' earlier statement. He was always their protector and now he was able to help one more time even in death.  
  
Reaching out to touch the picture, Buffy whispers, "Thank you Xander."  
  
Dawn leans over to her sister and says, "You know they say the dead can hear you when you talk to them."  
  
Looking at her sister Buffy smiles. "I hope so Dawn, I hope so."  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Thump, thump. Light flashes and the screams come. Thump, thump. The sounds of devastation and destruction fill his ears. Thump, thump. Searing heat bites at his skin. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Faster and faster his heart beats until all the images before him, all the sensory information attacks him from all angles blurring into a single mass of images and sensations until everything becomes dark again. Thump, thump.  
  
"Welcome to my world boy."  
  
As the words are said, Xander can feel his body being racked with pain. Screaming he falls to his knees as the sound of laughter fill his mind. The images float all around him forcing him to see all that they contain.  
  
"Who are you?" Xander screams through the sounds and noise that only he can hear. "Why are you doing this to me?"  
  
The voice laughs loud as the images that attack his still closed eyes redouble their efforts showing him levels of pain and destruction he had never before thought possible.  
  
"Why I am I doing this? WHY?" The voice sounds almost appalled that he doesn't know why it is doing this to him. "You of all people have the gall to ask me WHY?"  
  
The sounds and images around him all begin to strengthen, pressing on his consciousness. Not knowing how else to combat his unknown foe Xander reaches down as before and taps into the power of his quickening and pushes outward.  
  
"Tut, tut. I'm disappointed in you boy, I've seen that trick before and fortunately for me I know how to deal with it." As Xander tries to push out harde,r he can feel something resisting him. At first it is a faint buzz against his brain but soon the buzz becomes a jackhammer, slamming away in his mind. The harder and harder he would try to push the harder the voice would push back.  
  
Xander, his mind weak from the onslaught and his body drenched in sweat from his exertion, can only submit to the sounds and images that have become his world.  
  
"Who are you?" He says weakly.  
  
As suddenly as the sounds and images started they stop, leaving Xander deaf and blinded in a place of complete white. The only reference he has to up and down is the way he is sitting, or maybe floating, in the room. From the far reaches of the room, blackness begins to swirl, slithering from nothingness to coalesce in front of him.  
  
"Who am I?" The form asks him. "How could you possibly forget me? Perhaps it is the form that I appear to you." Suddenly the black swirl turns into the body of the demon Master. Xander recoils in horror as he recognizes the form. "Ah, I see you know who I am now."  
  
"You're, you're dead! I killed you!"  
  
"Now, now my dear boy. You may have killed my vessel but I am far from dead." The form reverts back to its androgynous black mist. A tendril of smoke reaches out to Xander chilling each part of his body to the bone as it brushes up against him. "I've been alive and waiting, waiting to be released from the cage you had me imprisoned in your mind. I'm a very patient being, so I waited, biding my time until a moment like this would happen, a moment where I would be freed!"  
  
"How?"  
  
"I really don't understand how it all really happened but all I know is that you over exerted yourself in that last foray of yours and it allowed me the crack that I've been waiting for."  
  
"Why are you telling me all this?"  
  
"Because I've been in your head, young man, and let me tell you this: I do not take kindly to being trapped against my will anywhere. Now that I'm free I feel that I need to stretch my wings, so to speak, and while I'm at it I might as well wreak havoc in your life as retribution for my imprisonment."  
  
Images of blood and destruction begin to float in Xander's vision as the voice speaks to him, "I will do horrible things to innocents, to those who you care for to all those around you. I will make your entire life crumble around you and you won't be able to do a thing about it."  
  
"NO!" Xander yells to the voice. "I won't let you! I've stopped you before and I'll stop you again!"  
  
"Big talk coming from the one who is on his knees. The first time you knew what you were fighting. My vessel, though a very smart individual, became complacent and overconfident in the powers that I would bring him. No, this time you don't know who my vessel is. This time rituals or portents or alignments of any kind do not bind me. I can be anyone, anywhere. I can move with a touch or even a glance. You won't know where I am, but know this: I will be the cause of your downfall, I will destroy your precious friends and the pseudo-family that you have built."  
  
"I'll protect them! I won't let you harm any of them!" At that comment the voice's laughter booms in his ears.  
  
"That is the beauty of my vengeance, Xander: every act I commit, every life that I take, every friend I hurt, every family member that I inflict pain upon you will see it. Every glorious moment of it you will witness until you beg with every fiber of your being for me to stop."  
  
"No. I don't believe it, I won't believe it!" Xander tells the spirit.  
  
"Oh you don't have to now, but you will believe it when it happens. You will believe when you watch me tear apart a human being as it begs for its pathetic life. You will watch it's life blood flow onto the ground and onto me as I cut open it's body like a piece of meat." The swirling black cloud solidifies into the form of the Master's human form and walks up to Xander grabbing his chin and forcing him to look into his eyes. "I've been in your mind, Alexander Harris. We are connected. When I want you to see, you will see it. When I want you to feel pain, you will feel it."  
  
Stepping back away from Xander, the Master begins to change back into a black swirl and begins to dissipate once again in to the far reaches of the room. "I will be seeing you Alexander Harris and more importantly, you will be seeing me."  
  
And with those last words Xander's world plunges into darkness again but not before he witnesses several men being torn apart by a shadow, a blur of dark motion, moving from a cloaked body to the next, tearing off limbs, shattering bones and leaving once standing human beings as lifeless piles of bloody flesh on the ground. Reaching out, he tries to help the people being torn apart by the darkness by moving between them only to be yanked back, forcing him to watch as the darkness finishes off the last person by slamming into its face, shattering bone and forcing it into the delicate gray matter killing him instantly.  
  
The dark figure stops and survey's the damage it had done and looks around. Xander is almost positive that the figure looks directly at him before it takes off running.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Thump, thump. Blood begins to flow though his veins again. Thump, thump. The blood moves through his body flowing to his brain, arms, legs and finally his lungs. Once the blood reaches his lungs, they forcefully inflate, filling with air, to feed the body the oxygen it needs. It is with that intake of breath that Xander bolts upright for the first time that night, reviving from the dead.  
  
Trying to control his breathing, Xander closes his eyes and focuses on each intake and exhalation of breath, slowing his breath and trying to force his heart beat to follow. But the stark images of death that linger in his mind make that all but impossible. As the images return in fleeting glimpses his body begins to shudder.  
  
Falling back on to the bed, "his" bed he noted, Xander, staring at the ceiling, blinks away the last of the images. "Oh, man." He says to himself as he feels his body once again responding to his commands.  
  
He can feel the tell tale beginnings of the buzz of a close by immortal. By the feeling of it either Adam or Cassandra or both. The door opens and in walks in Adam.  
  
"So you're finally awake?" Adam says sarcastically.  
  
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Xander says deadpanned still staring up at the ceiling.  
  
"How you feeling?"  
  
"Much better than before, I assure you."  
  
"I would hope so," Adam says sitting down in a chair in the corner of the room facing the bed. "Cassandra is tending to Faith right now in case you were wondering."  
  
Xander sits up to look at his mentor and immediately regrets it as his head begins to swim. Lying back down he asks, "How is she?"  
  
"She is fine. She's pretty much in the same condition that we found her in when we arrived but her physical wounds have all healed so Cassandra is waiting for her to wake up."  
  
Laying back down on the bed Xander says, "Good. She's going to be fine, right?"  
  
"Yes. I would have done more but I don't know what happened to her in the first place so it is pretty hard to treat someone when you don't know what's wrong. Do you mind telling me what happened down there?"  
  
"We were attacked," Xander says simply.  
  
"Is that so? Do you know what attacked you?"  
  
"No, and it didn't attack me, it attacked Faith first. Whatever it was only attacked me after I tried to save her the first time."  
  
"Was this when you used your quickening to save her?"  
  
"Yes," Xander says tiredly. "But a lot of good it did us, she's still unconscious, I died and I have no clue what it was that attacked us." Pausing for a moment, Xander says giving as much detail as he could give to the old man, "But one thing's for sure, it was a magical attack. Whatever it was, it was aimed directly at Faith."  
  
"Okay, that's a start," Adam says thoughtfully. "I'll let you go back to sleep. We'll talk about this more tomorrow morning."  
  
Adam gets up and moves to the door. He is about to walk through the door when he hears Xander's voice call out to him.  
  
"Adam?"  
  
Turing around he faces the young man, "Yes?"  
  
"When you die, do you see things?"  
  
"You mean the whole life flashing before your eyes bit?"  
  
"No I mean after you die, the time between your last and first breaths, do you ever see or hear anything?"  
  
"No, not personally. I've studied this for a bit and I can tell you that during that time there is no brain activity whatsoever. Anything that you would see would occur right before reviving when your brain jumpstarts with the rest of your body trying to process those last conscious and unconscious thoughts all at once. The Immortal version of a near death experience so to speak. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Nothing, I just had this weird dream." Xander's sentence trails off for a moment before he continues with more a lighthearted comment, "But you're probably right. Just a bunch of excited neurons bouncing off of each other. Nothing more, nothing less. I'll see you in the morning. G'night."  
  
"Night Xander."  
  
As the door closes behind him, Adam wonders what that was all about while on the other side of the door, Xander wonders if the images will return if he closes his eyes to go back to sleep.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Travers walks down a set of stairs within the great expanse of the Watcher library. Every organization in the world has a repository of some sort, a place where accumulated knowledge of the past resides. The Watchers are no different than the rest.  
  
Down beneath the expanse of Watcher Headquarters in England a series of caverns, once used as a hiding place from those who would invade the city, were fortified and turned into the home for the Watcher records. At first magical means were used to help preserve the records, then as the years proceeded and technology caught up with magic, technology began to supplement the magical protection put onto the archives.  
  
Travers makes his way down one of the numerous rows of books, housed in their specially designed cases to keep moisture away from the precious pages and the words written upon them. Though the protection given to these records is impressive, they do not interest Travers. He continues down the aisle.  
  
At the end of the aisle, there is a door that matches the forty other doors on the same wall. Travers pulls out a key that was given to him by the Watcher who was on duty at the entrance of the great library. He handed the paper that Murdoch had given to him a Watcher who took a single glance at the paper and just nodded. The Watcher pulled out the key and told him where to go.  
  
Now he stands before the door that the Watcher directed him to, the door that Murdoch wanted him to see, the door that holds the truth that only Lauren Fletcher and Murdoch know. The doorframe is laden with runes, signs protecting all that which is behind the sanctuary of the room. Taking the key and placing it into the archaic, lock Travers gently turns the key. He can hear the lock tumblers fall into place as bolts slide into the door allowing it to be pushed open.  
  
Inside are more cases, these more elaborate than the ones outside and filled with books. But in the center of the far wall stands a single pedestal with a book lying on top. It stands out because it is the only book in the room that sits unprotected from the elements, it is this very fact that draws him to the book. Nearing the pedestal he can feel the power reverberating around the book. Multitudes of spells have been cast on it to protect it from harm, thus allowing it to be left in the open.  
  
Walking up to the book, Travers gently opens it and carefully turns to a page noted on the piece of paper he was given. The passage is written in Latin with a careful and deliberate script.  
  
The first sentence is short but its impact does not reflect its size. "And thus today the Slayer has been called anew."  
  
His interest piqued, Travers continues to read on.  
  
"Miranda and myself had arrived in the village just after sun down, the village is nestled in between two mountains so the path was long and arduous. Rumors in the neighboring villages had drawn us here. The rumors spoke of undying creatures meeting in the town to do battle.  
  
Normally I would have ignored such rumors had I not discovered a prophecy describing the battle of two great warriors. Neither good nor evil they will descend between the peaks in a city beyond the clouds.  
  
Miranda being the oldest and most successful Slayer at the age of sixteen, the Council ordered her and myself to investigate.  
  
The city beyond the clouds part was correct. On the way up the mountain the fog became so think that if it weren't for Miranda's heightened senses I would have surely tumbled down the mountain. But now, in looking back, I wish I had.  
  
By the time we arrived in the village the sun had set. Usually when the sun sets a village virtually shuts down. Aside from the local tavern, the villagers return home to rest after a day's work. It was not so with this village. The villagers were gathering their belongings, families, anything of importance and leaving the town.  
  
I had asked one of the passing villagers what was going on. His reply only confirmed my greatest fears.  
  
'They are coming tonight. Their battle will destroy the village'  
  
I asked him who was coming and his simple answer was said with fear and awe, as if God himself would reach down and smite him for even mentioning their names.  
  
'The burning ones.' I tried to pry more information from him but he would have none of it. I tried to query more of the passing villagers but they were all too consumed with their flight from the town that they did not acknowledge Miranda or myself.  
  
We found the local tavern and decided to wait and rest inside until the so- called burning ones came to do battle. Inside the tavern the lack of patrons and excitement was startling. The barkeep stood quietly cleaning his bar; he was perhaps the only one in the town not rushing away for safety.  
  
'Do you own this tavern?' I had asked him.  
  
'For the last twenty harvests, and before then my father had owned it.' He answered cryptically  
  
'Then surely you know what is going to happen here?'  
  
'Of course!' The tavern owner answered  
  
'Then why are you still here while the rest of the town is scrambling away from this place like rats from a ship?'  
  
The tavern owner smirked at me and said. 'I've lived here my whole life. I've seen everything that has happened to this village, good and bad, I will be here to watch what is coming tonight.'  
  
'Interesting thing to say.' I said to him. I could see Miranda's look out of the corner of my eye. She thought that the man's story was curious but we needed lodging until the battle between the undying creatures tonight.  
  
'I guess that is a good thing for us, we were hoping to have a place to stay until we continue our travels tonight.' I tell him.  
  
It was the innkeeper this time that showed us his curious look. 'You plan on traveling tonight? Surely you know what is going to happen, the ones fleeing the village are practically screaming about the coming of the apocalypse and yet you say you are going to continue your travels tonight?'  
  
The innkeeper was quite observant but I was able to cover quickly, 'We do not hold the sayings of a few people as the truth. Plus we have found that the cool air of the night makes it easier to travel long distances.'  
  
The innkeeper looked as if he was about to say something else but merely shrugged. 'The first door at the top of the stairs and the one next to it are open. You two can take those rooms.' The innkeeper tells them as he continues to clean and tend his bar.  
  
Walking up the stairs I wait until we are out of earshot to tell Miranda of our plans. 'We need to rest for tonight. If the texts are any indication of how difficult our opponents will be we will need to be in our top form.'  
  
Miranda nodded, accepting the wisdom that I had imparted onto her, but I could tell there was something bothering her. 'What is it that bothers you?' I ask her.  
  
'The texts say that these warriors have fought here before even the authors of the texts were even born correct?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Then why can't we find the warrior that is on our side and help him? We will gain an ally and rid the world of a great evil right?'  
  
I had to try to suppress my reflex to sigh. Though she was the greatest Slayer to date she still knew so little about the way the world truly worked.  
  
'The world isn't always in terms of good and bad. Sometimes the only things differentiating one from another are a myriad of levels of evil or good. Sometimes one evil is worse than the other but to choose the lesser of the two evils still goes against all the Council and the Slayer stands for.'  
  
She looked at me with a look of confusion. She always tried to understand and grasp all that I imparted onto her but it always took a few more lessons until she truly understood the wisdom of the Council.  
  
'Trust me Miranda, we need to stop both of them. Leaving one alive leaves one left to possibly terrorize the world. Now go and rest, you'll need your strength for later.'  
  
She went into her room and I went into mine where I prepared the weapons for that night's battle. At that time, I had thought that the battle would be a hard fought one.  
  
I was wrong.  
  
The battle was a lost cause before we even arrived at the site.  
  
Miranda and myself emerged from our respective rooms each of us ready to face whatever evil that was going to invade this village that night.  
  
The innkeeper was still at his station reading a book of some sort. When he heard us walking down the stairs he put his book away and asked, 'Ready to travel already?'  
  
I looked at him and answered easily, 'Yes. How much do we owe you for the rooms?'  
  
'Thirty. I'll give you a discount for the two rooms. Since you two are probably the only business I'm going to have around here for a long while.'  
  
'Thank you for your generosity.' I tell him. Quickly, I put to practice the plan I had devised earlier in my room to try to pry information from the innkeeper.  
  
'Tell me innkeeper, our travels are treacherous enough as it is and with the troubles coming to this village, I was hoping that you could tell us which part of town to avoid.'  
  
'The north side of town, the part closest to the peak of the mountain, that is where it is said that the great battle will take place as it has before.'  
  
Miranda looks at him and asks, 'Before?', asking the question that was in my own mind as well.  
  
'Oh yes. It is something that has been happening here for millennia. My father said that once every generation they would come and do battle. Each time the battle would end in a stalemate. The destruction from each battle growing in proportion in every consecutive battle.'  
  
'So this has been going on for long time?' Miranda asks.  
  
'My grandfather told me that his grandfather told him of the great battle when he was younger and every time it is the same two warriors.'  
  
'Why hasn't anyone tried to stop them before?' She asks him.  
  
The short laugh that came from the innkeeper was unexpected. 'Many have tried and few have survived with their bodies or minds intact.'  
  
'I'm sure that those stories are exaggerated as well.' I tell him.  
  
At my words his friendly face all but disappeared leaving a cold mask in its place. 'My father was one of those who tried to stop them. He survived but at the cost of an arm and an eye, only when he had healed did he take his own life. Those that go against these warriors return in two ways, dead or almost dead. Do not take this lightly.'  
  
The innkeeper looked away for a moment and took a deep breath, 'I apologize for my rudeness. I wish you luck on your travels.'  
  
With those words the innkeeper left. Placing the money for the rooms on the bar top Miranda and myself left and began our walk to the north side of town.  
  
The sun had set and with it the village's only defense against the rolling fog was gone. With the darkness, the thick patches of cold fog began to flow through the now abandoned streets and alleys in between the houses and buildings.  
  
Slowly from the dense fog a single figure emerges. A single man, walks along the streets in the north quarter. Miranda and myself watched from the shadows as the man moved slowly through the streets.  
  
He was walking down the street when he stopped mid-stride tilting his head in one direction as if he had heard something. Suddenly out of the shadows another figure rushes out charging at full speed towards the man.  
  
'It's the innkeeper.' Miranda states.  
  
Not believing her, I looked closer at the attacking figure and sure enough it was the innkeeper. In his hands a short sword of some sort raised above his head, poised to strike. As he ran the battle cry escaping his lips grew in strength and passion. The man made no movement other than to adjust his body to face the charging innkeeper.  
  
'You unholy beast!' The innkeeper bellowed, 'You killed my father!'  
  
Closer and closer, he quickly covered the distance between himself and the 'beast.' His sword ready to strike, he lunged into the man swinging fiercely with precision and passion. Each swing was fast and unrelenting, his prowess with a sword unquestionable.  
  
But the innkeeper's swings were not met by flesh and bone. They were met with the cool nothingness of air. The swings of his sword causing some of the passing fog to swirl and part. Each swing the man would avoid by the narrowest of margins. The emotionless mask of his face never revealing fear or apprehension of his opponent.  
  
The innkeeper's stamina was considerable but not even a Slayer would have been able to keep the pace he was setting up for long. Soon the ferocity of the swings began to deteriorate. Clearly the innkeeper was beginning to tire. His face a mask of desperation because he had realized that he had yet to land a single hit on his target.  
  
It was then I swear that I heard the man laugh.  
  
Suddenly there was a blur of movement and the man was now behind the innkeeper, a sword of his own in hand. The innkeeper slowly sagged to his knees clutching his arm. It was only when I saw his sword land a few feet away, a hand still gripping the pommel, did I see the blood running down the man's blade.  
  
The innkeeper's battle cry had now turned into cries of pain and suffering as he cradled his now handless arm.  
  
The man slowly walked over to the innkeeper and raised his sword. As the sword began to come down I saw another blur of motion out of the corner of my eye. To my surprise it was Miranda running to save the innkeeper.  
  
Just as the man's sword was about to come down and kill the innkeeper Miranda was able to knock the man out of the way saving the innkeeper. Miranda rolled out of the man's reach and over to the innkeeper's fallen sword. Prying his dead hand from the pommel Miranda hefted the sword to test it's balance and brought the sword up to the ready position.  
  
The man slowly returned to his feet and straightened himself out. Looking over at Miranda he said to her, 'I don't think that is such a wise choice mortal.'  
  
Miranda only sneered at the man and rushed him. Swinging the sword with all the precision her engrained Slayer prowess would allow.  
  
As the man blocked the first blow a look of surprise crept onto his face. It seems that the man had never expected such strong opposition from such a small opponent. Miranda swung again and again only to find her sword intercepted at every turn. High swing, low swing, lunge, every movement was met by a block, parry or dodge.  
  
While she had no success in landing any strikes on her opponent she was now bleeding out of several small wounds on her arms and legs. The man was toying with her; I knew at that point that Miranda had no chance to defeat this opponent.  
  
None whatsoever.  
  
'Geburael! Is this how you choose to face me?' The man shouts as he and Miranda fight. 'Is this how the Divine Power does battle? With weak mortals and young women?'  
  
To prove his further dominance over Miranda, despite her enhanced Slayer strength and speed, the man began to move even faster, landing hit after hit on her arms and legs. Finding hole after hole in her defense and exploiting each and every one of them. Nothing she could do would stop him.  
  
It was then that I decided to step beyond my boundaries and help my young ward. Hefting a small battle-axe from my sack, and I steeled myself and threw myself into the battle.  
  
Miranda and I had trained for hours upon hours to help ready her for her calling and as I entered the deadly foray I realized that even with the two of us confronting this warrior we were overmatched.  
  
We fought for what seemed to be ages until an opening finally opened up in favor of Miranda and myself. I was able to deflect the warrior's sword enough to allow Miranda an opportunity to score a hit on him. A deep cut across his guard shoulder enough to slow him down for a second.  
  
We were rewarded with a momentary respite as the warrior quickly backed away to protect his injured arm. It should have been our moment of triumph, the moment where the fates would smile down on us and we would claim victory over this formidable warrior. However the next few seconds would crush any hope I had of victory.  
  
The warrior looked up at us and instead of apprehension, instead worry or fear, what I saw on his face was a cold smile. It was at that moment I was truly humbled at what I saw: power, pure energy mending his wound before my very eyes.  
  
I was humbled so much to the point that I could not move, my mind and body frozen in time. During that moment the warrior, completely healed, lunges at me his sword aimed at my stomach attempting to kill me with a single lunge. I watched as the sword came ever closer to me, I could not move to avoid the killing blow nor could I move to defend myself. So I closed my eyes and awaited the cold steel's entrance into my body.  
  
But the cold intrusion never came. Instead of my own voice crying out in pain I hear Miranda's, looking down, instead of seeing my own entrails I see hers. She threw herself in front of me, saving my own life at the cost of her own.  
  
Blood spurted from her body as he pulled his sword out of her. Without the added support from the sword Miranda no longer had the strength to stand on her own. I quickly moved forward and caught her body before she hit the ground. Her bleeding was profuse and I knew that she would not survive this battle.  
  
'You mortals put up a good fight.' The warrior said to us, 'Far better than I would have expected from you, especially from her.' He said pointing at Miranda who was slowly dying in my arms.  
  
'I actually wanted to kill you first because she was a much more entertaining adversary.' Flicking the blood off of his sword the man just sighed as he saw the enraged look on my face. 'Oh well, you shouldn't trouble yourself with it much longer you'll be following her soon.'  
  
For a second time I watched as he raised his sword poised to strike me down where I sat motionless holding the dying form of my Slayer in my arms. Just as his arm reached its apex I heard a thunderous voice call out from the fog.  
  
'BARAQYAL!'  
  
The sound of the voice stopped the warrior's pending strike mid swing. The warrior slowly began to turn searching for the source of the voice, but the fog would not surrender the location of the voice's bearer.  
  
'Geburael!' Baraqyal shouted into the fog. 'Geburael! Show yourself coward! I have already killed two of the three mortals you sent before you,' Baraqyal said to the unseen Geburael. 'If I must I will kill the last one as well!'  
  
Suddenly, as if the fog had decided to relinquish its prize, the fog parted and a figure slowly approached our position sword in hand.  
  
'I did not send them ahead of me.' Geburael stopped next to us and kneeled down at looked over Miranda and only sighed.  
  
'Baraqyal,' Geburael said in a low and menacing voice, 'you know our battles are not meant for mortal eyes. How could you do this?'  
  
'They attacked me, Geburael, in any case what do I care if a few mortals die?'  
  
Geburael looked at me with sad eyes and said, 'I'm sorry.' I nod acknowledging his apology. With that he stands and turns to face Baraqyal.  
  
'You have fallen too far Baraqyal, I have let you live on out of my own compassion and hopes that you would bring yourself to the right path again, but my compassion has been sadly misdirected. It ends tonight, Baraqyal.'  
  
Baraqyal looked at Geburael with a smirk. 'It ends tonight?' he says with a laugh, 'You actually plan to kill me? You don't have the heart for it.'  
  
'Maybe not, but I have the will for it.'  
  
With his last remark Geburael threw himself into the other warrior, sword drawn and ready. Baraqyal was only barely able to bring his own blade up to block Geburael's attack. The first strike of metal upon metal rang through my ears with deafening clarity. I looked on in awe as sparks flew from where the blades would meet at every stroke, each blow faster and more powerful than the last.  
  
The Watchers Council has been training Slayers since the beginning, teaching and guiding her through the ages. Their speed and strength heightened to aid in her holy quest to protect mankind. The Council had seen all matters of evil, human and demon and categorized their strengths and tiers of power. Until that night I had thought the most powerful beings on the planet were the higher demons released from the depths from hell, but that night I had witnessed two beings whose power surpassed even those horrible monsters.  
  
The two beings continued to fight across the square; their blades occasionally hitting home and drawing blood for only the briefest of moments, until their power literally crackled from their wounds, closing them immediately. Their movements surpassing anything on the planet, human, Slayer or Demon, it seemed that they would do battle until the sun rose above the great peak.  
  
However it would not be. Geburael's battle posture changed, where it was once an even battle it was now becoming more and more obvious that the battle was one sided. Geburael's dominance in the battle was becoming evident as he began to systematically tear apart Baraqyal's defense and completely negate any attempt of offense Baraqyal could muster.  
  
Suddenly Gerburael's blade flashed in the moonlight and he lunged at Baraqyal. From my vantage point I could see that the point of Geburael's sword protruding from the Baraqyal's back. Removing his sword Geburael's blade flashes once again before Baraqyal could fall to his knees. Baraqyal and his sword hit the ground at the same time. Looking at the sword I see that there is still a hand clutching the pommel.  
  
Looking up and seeing Geburael's face, I realized that he had put Baraqyal through what he put Miranda and the innkeeper through, his own form of poetic justice.  
  
Geburael rests his sword on the back of Baraqyal's neck and says to him, 'Yield and repent for all you have done.'  
  
Baraqyal looks at me and spits on the ground before he replies to Geburael's command, 'I would rather die!'  
  
Geburael sighs and raises his sword, 'So be it.'  
  
Geburael's sword flashes in the light one last time and Baraqyal's body slumps to the ground while his head rolls several lengths away.  
  
As Geburael stepped away slowly from the body and head it almost seemed as if the fog was following him, chasing him. Geburael stopped suddenly and turned, to face Miranda and myself or the fog chasing him I'm not sure, but he turned and threw his sword point down into the ground leaving it there to stand.  
  
To my amazement, I watched on as the fog began to circle around him. He would tilt his head from side to side eyeing the fog as it circled him. Suddenly he raised his arms slightly and a wind began to fill the street forcing me to shield Miranda and my eyes. Despite the strong wind though the fog circling around, Gaburael did not disperse.  
  
It was then I first heard the scream emitted from Geburael, as he slowly began to levitate from the ground his arms outstretched like a bird taking flight. The wind became even stronger and my body tensed as it tried to reflexively turn away but I did not. It was because of that I did not miss what happened next; lightening from the heavens struck Geburael's body as it floated in the air. Then more and more energy streaked across the sky causing the wind to blow harder and harder.  
  
To my amazement, I saw that most of the energy came from the Baraqyal's prone body. More and more energy poured from the body, as if his head were the dam holding all the energy within it.  
  
The storm continued to gather strength and soon shutters on the windows were banging against the walls of the buildings lining the streets. I watched on in fear as the energy merely touching the shutters and doors as it lanced up and down the street caused them to explode or burst into flames. Soon the roofs of the buildings were on fire spreading fast, the building closest to Geburael was completely consumed by flames, the heat evident on my face.  
  
As the building collapsed to the ground I felt a slight change in the wind. The urgency and power I had felt in it before was suddenly gone, and as suddenly as it began, everything stopped. Geburael fell to the ground, the wind once strong again died down to a calm breeze as before. Looking up and down the street I saw several buildings still on fire, every window blown open, every door torn off its hinges or on the ground.  
  
And in the middle of the street the only movement was Geburael struggling to his feet. He walked over to his sword and replaced it to where he had it before, out of sight. He turned and saw me there still holding Miranda in my arms. He looked at me for a few moments longer and started towards us. In a panic I tried to move away, trying to drag Miranda with me. The force on her body was too much though and she let out a cry of pain.  
  
'Still yourself Watcher, or do you wish to cause your ward more pain?' He said as he kneeled beside us. He brought his hand to her wound and then with sadness in his eyes he said to Miranda, 'I can do nothing for you, but know this; you have been avenged.'  
  
Miranda merely nodded and closed her eyes. I could feel the breath leave her as she sagged in my arms, lifeless.  
  
Geburael stood and looked down on me and said, 'Your ward is dead.' He began to walk away when he suddenly stopped and turned to me and said, 'What you have seen here was never meant for mortal eyes. Baraqyal has paid the price for that breech of conduct. Look upon what has happened here, look upon the corpse of your Slayer, look upon me and know that what I am, what Baraqyal was, is beyond you mortal. Look upon me and pray to whatever god that you worship that you never see me or my kind again. Our kind is beyond you, your Slayer and what ever cause you believe in so fiercely. Leave now and hope that what has happened here will never be witnessed by your kind again, or the next time you may not be so lucky.'  
  
With that he turned and walked away, the smoke and fog enveloping him, causing him to disappear from sight.  
  
It was only later did I find an explanation for what the two beings were that did battle that night. I had been researching in the great library trying to understand what they were and how they could possibly have so much power. For nearly a weeks time I poured through the records and books and still nothing could explain what they were. Not warlocks, wizards, demons or anything I could find in the old books.  
  
There were times where other Watchers would come down and keep me company knowing the horrible ordeal I went through, witness to the death of my Slayer and so on, but I paid them no mind. I needed to find my answers and I would not stop until I had them.  
  
Ironically it was one of the Watchers who had come to keep me company that helped me find my answers. He didn't help me with my research; rather he left the book he was reading on the table beside me.  
  
In a moment of frustration I pulled away from yet another dead end and accidentally picked up the book he was reading. I realized it was the bible and almost tossed it aside until I saw a word on the page. It was the only word on the page that I could see but it suddenly made sense.  
  
Seraphim.  
  
The burning ones, I had watched as their wounds burn with raw power and I witnessed the release of that raw power burning all it touched. That is what they were, what else could give them so much power other than God himself?  
  
After telling all this to the Council they told me to write it all down for posterities sake and told me that my words would be archived to warn the future councils of this great power. The Council then informed me that a new Slayer has been called to take on Miranda's mantle and that I would train her as well seeing my success with the prior Slayer.  
  
Though Geburael had warned me of his kind and their power, one can only hope that they can witness it for themselves first hand. But most of all one can only hope that if this power is called forth again that it is not directed at one because perhaps it will be as Geburael said: next time might not be so lucky."  
  
Travers looked up from the book and realized he had been in the room for quite awhile. Turning he jumped back in surprise as he saw Murdoch's form sitting in a chair by the lone table in the room.  
  
"I remember how I felt when I first read that passage as well." He told Travers, "Your days are numbered Travers. Hope that when the Seraphim finds you that your death will be quick." Pushing away from the table Murdoch makes his way to the door. "Find the girl Travers, it may be the only way for you to find redemption."  
  
The door closes leaving Travers alone with his own thoughts and fears.  
  
"Sweet God in heaven, what have I done?" He whispers to himself as he contemplates how he is going to save himself this time.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Faith's eyes flutter open and she immediately sits up and screams, "XANDER!"  
  
She can feel an arm push her down and she struggles weakly against it, her strength gone from the attack.  
  
"Shhh, child lie down, you're still weak." Cassandra's voice tells her.  
  
Her eyes regain focus as she looks at the immortal woman. "Xander."  
  
"Is doing fine, he's resting right now, as you should be." Cassandra scolds.  
  
"But."  
  
"He is fine. Now lay down." Faith knows that she couldn't resist, even if she had the strength to, acquiesce to Cassandra. "Good. Now how do you feel?"  
  
"Like a truck ran me over," She tells her sarcastically  
  
"Honestly?" Cassandra asks.  
  
"Like a truck honestly ran me over." Faith replies without a hint of sarcasm.  
  
"You'll need to rest to get your strength back."  
  
"Don't worry, I don't plan on moving from this bed anytime soon. Trust me, I have lots of experience with being confined to a bed."  
  
"You should be up and about by tomorrow, but until then can you tell me what happened to you and Xander?"  
  
"I was hoping you could tell me, one minute I was training and the next, flash! I'm skewered by a bolt of energy."  
  
"Can you remember anything else, anything at all?' Cassandra pressed.  
  
Faith closed her eyes and began to concentrate using the exercises Cassandra had taught to her to focus her mind and Slayer powers. "The energy.it sought me out. It came after me.and."  
  
Cassandra looked on intently as Faith pulled the memory out from her mind, "and. it came after another.it came after.Buffy, it came after Buffy."  
  
"The other Slayer?"  
  
"Yes, the attack was meant for me and Buffy, when the energy hit after awhile I could feel Buffy there too."  
  
"Then why did it come after Xander?"  
  
"It didn't, Xander came after it," Faith explained and smiled. "He saw that I was in pain and charged to my rescue. So the energy tried to fight Xander off."  
  
"But it couldn't?"  
  
"I'm not sure, I blacked out from the pain before the end came. The only one who knows what happened after that is Xander."  
  
"That's enough for now Faith. Get some rest. Sleep." Faith was tired enough that Cassandra didn't have to use the voice to force her into slumber but she felt it would allow her to rest peacefully until morning.  
  
Standing up and walking to the door Cassandra makes her way down the stairs where Methos waited.  
  
"What did she have to say?" he asked her.  
  
"Only that the attack was meant for her and Buffy."  
  
"That doesn't give us much to go on."  
  
"No it doesn't. Maybe we should call Sunnydale and see if Buffy is okay." Cassandra says.  
  
"We don't have a good reason to suspect that she isn't, plus we would throw suspicion on ourselves knowing that she was attacked as well. We can only assume that she is okay because Faith is fine as well."  
  
"Well what do we do? Whoever did this could try again."  
  
"I don't think so, this was a pretty big thing to pull off and I'm suspecting it was a one time shot. But it doesn't mean that they won't try anything else. We have to find out who was behind this."  
  
"How do you propose we do that?"  
  
"Research," Methos answers, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as he makes his way to the kitchen.  
  
Sighing, Cassandra follows Methos' retreating form, "Is it just me, but have you noticed that ever since these two have gotten together we've been doing a lot of research?"  
  
"Come to think of it, yes," Methos answers, "And if their track record is any indication I'm sure that this is going to get quite interesting."  
  
"I was afraid of that." Cassandra answers taking the book Adam had retrieved from the bag he had packed a few hours ago when he went back to the house to pick up a few things.  
  
Sitting across from Methos, Cassandra opened up the book and began reading. It was going to be a long night.  
  
.  
  
Lauren Fletcher sits at her desk fingering a small picture as she downs another shot of scotch.  
  
"I should have never let you go love," she says as she pours the rest of the scotch into her glass.  
  
"But I'm going to find you, I promise. So many have died already, I didn't mean for them to die, I swear. It's just that I had to find you, and now that she's out there she'll lead me right to you."  
  
She finishes the scotch and places the glass and the picture on her desk before passing out. The flames from the nearby fireplace reflect off of the glass in the frame, despite that the picture is still clear.  
  
In the frame is a picture of Lauren and Jacob Fletcher, they are both smiling and happy in their youth, and in her arms is a small baby. This picture is the exact same as the portrait hanging above the fireplace, except in the portrait the baby that is in the picture is not there. 


	4. Chapter 4: Shadows and Hidden Evil

Title: Falling Toward Apotheosis  
  
Rating: R  
  
Author: Banquo  
  
Email: banquo@fanfiction.net  
  
Summary: Xander and Faith have returned home after the events of "Leaves of Grass" but all is not as it seems. Dark dreams and plans set into motion allude to the danger that waits beyond the horizon.  
  
Disclaimers: I own nothing except the story and all the characters I create in between. Buffy and all character related there in belong to Joss and Mutant enemy. While the concept of Immortality and all characters pertaining to Highlander belong to Panzer-Davis.  
  
Archive: Go right ahead! Just email me a link where you plan on archiving my fic.  
  
Though this story can stand on its own there are references to my first story so I strongly recommend that you read my first story "Leaves of Grass" which can be found at www.fanfiction.net search for the title and it will appear on the top of the list. Or you can go here directly to get to the story.  
  
My apologies to all of you who have waited patiently for the next installment of this fic, I've have a bit of writers block right now and I have not been able to continue with this story at all the past few weeks. Nonetheless I've this chapter to share with you all.  
  
Chapter 4: Shadows and Hidden Evil  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Giles, Willow, Tara, Dawn and recently returned Riley are gathered at the Magic Shop.  
  
Riley had been out of town on military business. The government, discovering Professor Walsh's true motives for the Initiative, decided that it needed to recoup its losses suffered at the hands of the Adam project. Riley being one of the last of the surviving ranking officers, the government had recalled him for a full debriefing and re-instatement of his military clearance, not as a soldier, but as an advisor to the supernatural, his input vital to the re-establishment of the Initiative as a unit used to contain and combat supernatural forces on American soil.  
  
However once he heard what had happened to Buffy he had dropped all he was doing and caught the first flight out of Virginia to Los Angels and drove to Sunnydale. Giles had assured him that Buffy would make a full recovery but it would take another day or two before she would be to optimal performance levels.  
  
That said the entire group assembled at the Magic Shop at the request of the Watcher, stating that they need to find out who or what was behind the attack and how exactly it was carried out.  
  
"Well we know that the attack was magical in nature." Tara says.  
  
"And from the looks of it there was some very powerful magic involved." Will adds.  
  
"Yes the counter spells that we all tried to invoke were all very powerful spells and none of them had any visible effect on the attacking spell whatsoever." Giles says.  
  
"So what else do we know?" Riley asks the assembled group.  
  
"We know that someone helped us." Dawn says.  
  
"Not necessarily Dawn, we cannot be sure of the intervening power's motives, it may have been that saving Buffy was just a coincidence and that the real target was the spell casters themselves."  
  
"True, the power did seem to cause a energy feed back sending the power back up the energy lance."  
  
"Then there is Buffy's explanation." Dawn tells them.  
  
"And that would be?" Riley asks.  
  
"That Xander's spirit came and helped stop the attack."  
  
"Giles, could there be any merit to that theory?" Riley asks now in full strategic mode.  
  
"Yes but it is a very remote one. Willow explained to me later that they had visited Xander's grave earlier that day."  
  
"So it could have been her mind associating things while under attack?" Riley asks not really expecting an answer. "So what other avenues of research are open to us?"  
  
"Why would someone attack Buffy?" Dawn asks.  
  
Giles removes his glasses to clean a smudge off of the lens. As he rubs them with his handkerchief he says, "It could be a number of reasons but the only reason someone would single her out is the fact that she is the Slayer."  
  
"But the question is why was she attacked? Because she is the Slayer or because she is the Slayer?" Tara says.  
  
Riley with a confused look on his face looks at Tara. "Exactly do you mean by that?"  
  
Willow interjects saying, "I think I know where she is going with that one. Buffy was singled out either because she is the Slayer and has power that can be exploited, or."  
  
"Or she was singled out because she is the Slayer and has the power to stop something from happening." Dawn finishes.  
  
"So which one is it?" Riley asks the group.  
  
Replacing his glasses onto the bridge of his nose Giles says, "That is why we are going to research."  
  
.  
  
She could feel them, the others. They were out there, somewhere. Their presence sings in her mind and reverberates through her body.  
  
She needs to find the others; she needs to stop the pain in her head, to stop the voices.  
  
Each voice screams at her, telling her what to do. Telling her to fight, to survive, but one voice stands out in her mind. One voice dominates above all the shrill screaming voices, when it is present all the other voices seem to lull, giving her a brief reprieve from the chaos. When the one voice appears the other voices follow in concert with it, like a conductor the other voices follows its lead and tempo, gaining so much strength that she can't ignore them.  
  
The Voice has returned now and is telling her to find the others, to kill them.  
  
There can be only one.  
  
It is the only truth she could recognize since leaving the ruins. It is the only thing the Voice tells her that she believes, there can be only one.  
  
But how can she find them? They feel distant, out of her reach, how will she go to them?  
  
The Voice whispers in her mind, guiding her. Willingly she follows its directions. She tried to resist the Voice but was only rewarded with pain every time she contradicts its will. She finds herself walking on the side of the road. She hears a car pull up on the opposite side of the road.  
  
She turns to face the car as the window opens. Peering inside the car she sees a man eyeing her body. Her first reaction was to turn away in disgust, but the Voice has another idea.  
  
She can feel her mouth turn up in a smile as saunters across the road, she says to him, "Hi."  
  
The man doesn't even bother with pleasantries as he says to her, "You need a ride?"  
  
She hears her voice lustfully say to him, "I defiantly could use a ride."  
  
Grinning the man presses a button on his armrest and she hears the door unlock.  
  
"Then why don't you hop in?" He says leering at her body.  
  
"Thanks." She tells him with smile while opening the door. Getting in and closing the door she asks the man, "So where are you headed?"  
  
"In to the city." He tells her as his hand rests on her knee.  
  
She reaches over with her hand and begins to play with his hair. "Really? Anyone expecting you?"  
  
"No, I can be a few hours late if need be." He tells her not understanding what is about to happen.  
  
"Good." She says with a smile. Suddenly she grabs the back of his head and violently twists it. The sound of bones and cartilage breaking sings in her ears as she snaps his neck.  
  
Pushing the limp body out of the car and onto the side of the road she slides into the drivers side of the car. Leaning out of the door she reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. The Voice tells her its plan as she starts the car and pulls onto the road, the tires kicking dirt and gravel onto the body of the dead man. It tells her how to find the others, how she will go to them and ultimately how it is up to her to kill them.  
  
There can be, after all, only one.  
  
.  
  
Methos and Faith were going over what had happened to her as Xander and Cassandra walk into the kitchen with some food. They had been at this for a better part of the day and were no closer to a solution than they were when they started.  
  
"Faith I'm going to need a little more if we're going to get to the bottom of this," Methos tells her. "Is there anything, and I mean anything, that you can remember about the attack that could help us find who or what would want to hurt you?"  
  
"I already told you Adam, I was in the workout room practicing when it hit me. Other than blinding pain there isn't much else I can tell you about it."  
  
"But there has to be." He says, trying to push his point.  
  
"Adam, why don't we take a break for now?" Cassandra asks him.  
  
He looks from Faith to Cassandra and then to Xander, who only shrugs his shoulders. Sighing Methos sits back in his chair and rubs his eyes.  
  
"Yes, I suppose that would be the best plan of action right now."  
  
"Good, because this food isn't going to stay warm forever you know." Xander tell him taking out a few take out boxes and some bread for the bags he had carried inside with him.  
  
"Great, I'm starving!" Faith tells him as she gets up and walks over to Xander to see what they had bought. "What did you guys get?"  
  
"I think I smell.Italian?" Methos asks no one in particular.  
  
"Give the man a prize!" Xander says in his best game show host voice.  
  
"What do I win?"  
  
"Pene Rustica." Cassandra says placing the box in front of Methos along with her own.  
  
Methos' eyes almost gleam as he opens the box and inhales the aroma of the food within. Looking up and eyeing the box in front of Cassandra he asks her, "What did you get?"  
  
"The same. I haven't had this in a long time so I decided to indulge."  
  
Xander hands a box over to Faith and says in an almost passable Italian accent, "And for the lady we have bow tie pasta, sun dried tomatoes, diced mushrooms in a light cream sauce."  
  
"You certainly know your way to a girls heart don't you?" Faith tells him before picking up a fork and taking a bite of her food savoring the flavor. "Mmmmm, have I told you how much I love you?"  
  
Her eyes are closed as she makes the comment so she misses the look that falls on Xander's face for a split second. However Methos and Cassandra do not.  
  
The look lingers on his face for a moment longer before he says jovially, "You're only saying that now. Why do you wait until I get you into the training room? Then we'll see how you really feel."  
  
Playfully punching Xander on the arm Faith says, "Bring it on, Xand, bring it on," before taking her food and taking it to the table where Cassandra and Adam are sitting.  
  
Xander follows her to the table with his food carrying a plate with the bread on it. Opening his box he digs into his salad, enjoying the taste of the greens and chicken.  
  
"So find anything interesting while we were out?" Xander asks in between mouthfuls.  
  
"Unfortunately, no." Methos answers  
  
"Did you expect to find an answer in a few hours?" Cassandra scolds.  
  
"Well I at least thought we'd make some head way. We've made no progress whatsoever."  
  
"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, I'm partially to blame for our lack productivity, I can barely remember anything after the initial attack." Faith answers.  
  
"No is placing blame on you, child," Cassandra tells her. "You were attacked in an incredibly violent way, none of us expect you to have perfect recall. Isn't that right Adam?" She stresses the last sentence enough that Adam is able to understand her meaning.  
  
"Of course, most people are complete blanks after such a traumatizing attack. You should consider yourself lucky."  
  
"Thanks, I think." Faith answers as she stabs a piece of chicken before placing it in her mouth.  
  
"If it helps Adam, I thought that the entire experience was very draining. I have never felt so weak after an attack." Xander tells his mentor before scooping another bite of salad into his mouth.  
  
Faith is about to say something in agreement with Xander when he rises his fork indicating that he has something to add to his previous statement.  
  
"I take it back." He says and continues to chew, trying to free his mouth of food so he can speak coherently. "I've never felt so weak after an attack, with the exception of a Quickening, if you want to call that an attack."  
  
"I can't relate with the Quickening part, but every part of my body ached and barely had the strength to sit up after I woke up."  
  
Methos nods while chewing his food, deep in thought. "You know, that might be the angle that I've been looking for. I'll check up on it and see what I can find."  
  
Changing the subject to get their minds off of their research Cassandra asks, "So how are your classes going?"  
  
Faith immediately smiles. Despite her hard past she has really taken a liking to the dance lessons, "Great! We're going to learn swing tonight, I can't wait."  
  
"Yup, Faith is a natural at this. I think that her Slayer enhanced powers include natural dancing abilities and rhythm." Xander says to his Cassandra.  
  
"What he failed to mention is that he's still having a little trouble with the mambo."  
  
Methos grins as he says, "Xander you know at least three martial arts and several forms using dozens of weapons and you're having a little trouble shaking your hips?"  
  
"Hey, in my own defense I've never come across an opponent who would be subdued by the hypnotic movements of my hips!"  
  
"But the mambo?" Cassandra asks him, "It's such an easy dance."  
  
"If it's so easy why don't you do it?"  
  
Cassandra looks at Methos who nods and gets up and walks into the living room. Faith and Xander look on curiously as Cassandra stands up with a smug look on her face. Suddenly from the other room a steady Latin beat flows into the kitchen.  
  
Methos appears in the doorway with a theatrical pose staring down Cassandra. He raises he hand to her and simply says, "Senora? May I have this dance?"  
  
Cassandra fanning herself with an imaginary fan demurely curtsies, taking his hand. At the moment of contact Adam pulls her into a loose but firm frame and begins to move to the rhythm of the music. Their dance is fluid and full of complicated turns and transitions. One moment they are facing each other, the next they are spinning on the floor, each acutely aware of each other and their surroundings.  
  
Faith simply smiles watching the two ancient immortals dance to the music. Xander on the other hand looks at them with disbelief.  
  
"Were you guys dance champions too?" he says with sarcasm.  
  
Cassandra looks at him after a double spin and says, "Yes, in '72."  
  
Methos spins and pivots on a foot holding Cassandra close before looking at his young protégé, "So was I but in '74."  
  
Faith laughs at the look on Xander's face when he hears that particular piece of information.  
  
Exasperated Xander asks them, "Is there anything you guys haven't done?"  
  
"I'm sure there are." Methos tells him.  
  
"But we've done all the fun things already." Cassandra says with a smile.  
  
Faith only smiles as the three immortals banter, she looks on at the two happily dancing on the floor with each other as another song begins in the background. Adam and Cassandra are the closest things she has ever had to parents and she cherishes the fact that she is able to participate in their lives. Sometimes she wishes that she knew more about her real parents, who they were, what they were like, she didn't even have a picture of them.  
  
The council had found her after she was put back into the orphanage she had ran away from two years earlier. She was doing well in the streets of Boston looking out for herself, not worrying about anyone else, it was freedom that she had never known in the orphanages and half-way houses she was put into by the system. But fate, or in her case the police, had caught up with her when she was trying to boost a car. They put her back into juvee for a couple of months before putting her back into the orphanage. The next week the council found her, the rest, is history.  
  
Breaking her out of her reverie she feels something tugging on her arm. Looking up she sees that Xander had stood up and was trying to gently pull her to her feet.  
  
"Would you like to dance?" He asks her.  
  
Faith nods and smiles following Xander to an open space on the kitchen floor to dance on. Falling into Xander's arms as he begins to lead she automatically follows. Her movements dictated by his lead. As she dances with Xander she looks over at Adam and Cassandra still dancing, enjoying each other's company.  
  
Faith smiles and thinks that maybe her family is out there, her blood relatives, but her real family has been the people in this room. Adam and Cassandra her parents and Xander.and Xander.  
  
Faith is caught by surprise at her hesitation when trying to classify her relation to Xander. He wasn't a brother, she knew that much, it was closer than that. He was like her.boyfriend? The moment the thought appeared in her mind she felt a warmth and assurance flush over her. That accompanied with Xander's arms wrapping around her as they dance causes her to sigh.  
  
There would be more time to explore those feelings later, she thought to herself. Right now she just wanted to enjoy the moment. Forgotten for a brief moment were yesterday's attack, research and everything else. All that really mattered was herself and the people she called family dancing to music, enjoying themselves.  
  
She learned that she had to cherish these moments because being the Slayer meant not knowing when moments like these would happen again. She had already lost so much time while in a comma, she wasn't about to miss out on any more time.  
  
.  
  
Travers is absolutely livid as he screams at the gathered members of his team, "What do you mean you cannot find her! She's one girl, on foot for Gods sake! How can you not know where she is?"  
  
"She killed all the Watchers present at the site so no one could tell us in which exact direction she went. Mrs. Fletcher was only able to tell us that she ran into the wood." One of the young Watchers answers.  
  
"When we were able to get Watchers on site we were able to find her tracks entering Skell Wood. We followed them as far as we could go. After that we did a blanket search of the wood." Another young Watcher says to him.  
  
"Well obviously she is either NOT in the wood or your search was compromised and something was overlooked." Looking at the gathered Watchers he realizes that someone is missing. "Where is Masterson? I told you all to be here to report your findings, I will not tolerate tardiness!"  
  
As if on cue Masterson enters the room clutching a folder in his hand. "I apologize for my tardiness." He begins only to be cutoff by Travers.  
  
"You better have a good reason for being late Masterson. You have no idea how grave our situation is." Travers tells the young Watcher coolly.  
  
"I do have a good explanation." Masterson tells him holding up the folder. Opening it he hands all those present a packet of papers. "The first page is a police report from a town nearby Yorkshire, a man was found dead on the side of the road, his neck broken." He flips to the next page and continues, "Here is another police report from another town about a break in, a house was robbed and its occupants were killed."  
  
"Masterson, I fail to see how this helps us in our locating of the delta Slayer." Travers tells him impatiently.  
  
"Bear with me sir," Masterson says to his superior. "I did some checking and it seems that a large purchase was put onto the credit card on the dead man three hours after his estimated time of death. A purchase made online from Virgin airlines. I was able to find out that the purchase was made from an IP address that corresponds from address range of the ISP that the family in the house subscribes to."  
  
"Use her majesties English please Masterson, not your damn techno-babble." Travers tells him.  
  
"Sorry, it seems that whoever killed the man, used his credit card to buy a ticket online to fly to the United States." Flipping to the next page he points out the picture to those present. "Some of the things missing from the house are some clothes, a few valuables and a suitcase. If you look at the picture on the page you'll find something interesting."  
  
Looking down on the page all the Watcher look on in awe as Masterson continues, "That picture was taken from a security camera in Hethro."  
  
The picture is of a young woman in business suit her hair up dragging a suitcase as she walks through the terminal. Looking closely they realize it is the missing Slayer.  
  
"Damn! How could she have done this?!" Travers yells at his team. Seeing that they are at a loss for words he faces Masterson, "When did her flight leave?"  
  
"This morning. Her destination was New York."  
  
"Was?"  
  
"Yes, I'm afraid that her flight was early and landed at JFK an hour ago."  
  
"Get a team together, book a flight on the Concord. We're following our Slayer to New York. Alert the New York office. I want to be on that plane as soon as possible." Travers barks out as the Watchers scramble to get the tasks done. "I want to have her under Watcher control by the end of the week."  
  
.  
  
"Rupert, I'm doing fine now, really I'm okay." Joyce tells the Watcher in her kitchen.  
  
Giles is standing in front of the stove stirring in ingredients for a soup. "That may be, but I want you to rest as much as possible."  
  
"So you are you going to make me dinner for the next week or two?"  
  
"I hoping I would be having dinner with you for longer than that," he says to her with a grin, "however until I think you'll be okay by yourself I'm going to have to shower you with attention."  
  
With a dramatic sigh she answers, "I guess I'll have to find a way to survive the pampering you're giving me."  
  
"Yes, I'm sure you're just hating every moment of it."  
  
"I don't know how you're going to put up with my every whim." She tells him suggestively.  
  
Giles turns down the heat on the stove and faces her.  
  
"Every whim? Now that may have some implications." He says with an easy grin.  
  
"I assure you it does."  
  
"And just what sort of impli."  
  
At that moment a cell phone rings interrupting their banter. Pulling the offending piece of technology out of his pocket he asks Joyce, "Tell me again why is it I bought this horrendous thing?"  
  
"In case one of the kids needed to get a hold of you or if one of your customers and contacts needed to call you with important information."  
  
The phone rings again in his hand as he replies, "Yes, that was why wasn't it?"  
  
"You better answer that." She tells him nodding towards the phone in his hand.  
  
"Very well then, but I expect you to tell me what kinds of implications you mean." He tells her before answering the phone. "Hello?"  
  
"Rupert?" The voice on the other side of the line sounds a bit hollow, but Giles recognizes it almost immediately.  
  
"Julian! How are you doing?" Giles smiles as he speaks into the phone a bit loudly.  
  
Joyce can't help but smile at the way he is speaking into the small device, though incredibly intelligent and well learned he is still adverse to most forms of technology.  
  
"Don't talk so loud Rupert! You nearly popped my eardrum!"  
  
"Oh sorry. Is this better?"  
  
"Much, thank you."  
  
"So Julian, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"  
  
"Travers is heading stateside Rupert."  
  
"He's coming here to Sunnydale? Hasn't he already learned that Buffy won't."  
  
"He's not going to Sunnydale Rupert. Travers and his team boarded the Concord an hour ago and are bound for New York."  
  
"Julian, that ritual you told me about, when did it take place?" Giles asks closing his eyes hoping that his assumption is wrong.  
  
"Two days ago, but from what I understand the ritual was a failure."  
  
"How so?" Giles asks his heart sinking at Julian's confirmation of his fears.  
  
"Travers didn't return to the council with a Slayer. My understanding is that Travers is on his way to New York to intercept the Slayer he tried to call."  
  
"He didn't have the vessel when he performed the ritual?"  
  
"On the contrary, he did, but she was able to escape. At the cost of several Watchers' lives."  
  
"So he called a third Slayer, without any qualms or heed for the current Slayers' well being only to have activated an insane Slayer?" Giles asks his friend, his anger seething.  
  
At Giles' words Joyce looks at him with worry. He and Buffy had told her about Quentin Travers and the Cruciamentum. If this man was responsible for endangering her daughter's life once again, Council or not she was going to help take him down.  
  
"I'm afraid so Rupert."  
  
"Buffy was attacked not too long ago, I had assumed that the Council might have been behind it, but now I know."  
  
"I'm sorry Rupert." They both here a click on the line and Julian tells his friend hurriedly, "Sorry Rupert, I must go now."  
  
"But I have a few more questions!"  
  
"No there's no time, watch yourself Rupert. Whatever is happening, it's not going to be good."  
  
"I will. The same goes to you."  
  
"Cheers."  
  
"Cheers."  
  
Giles removes the phone from his ear and pushes the button hanging up the call. Pocketing the phone he turns his head towards Joyce.  
  
"Rupert? What was all that about?"  
  
"It seems the Council was behind the attack on Buffy."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"There was a ritual involved, one that would call a new Slayer. It seems that there is a side effect to the ritual though." He says grinding his teeth.  
  
"The attack on Buffy?"  
  
"Precisely." Giles says leaning against the kitchen counter. Joyce gets up and is about to comfort him when Giles explodes with anger.  
  
"Those arrogant bastards!" he yells slamming his hands into the counter tile. "Calling a third Slayer! A third one! And doing a ritual of such proportions without researching the possibilities!"  
  
It was then Joyce saw Rupert do something she had never seen him do before: babble.  
  
"Of all of the stupid, irresponsible."  
  
"Rupert."  
  
"They could have destroyed everything!"  
  
"Rupert."  
  
"Not to mention the powers they must have called forth to even attempt such a thing!"  
  
"RUPERT!"  
  
The sudden burst of sound startles Giles to attention. Realizing what just happened Giles stammers out an apology.  
  
"S-s-sorry Joyce its just th-that I can't believe that the council would try."  
  
Joyce promptly shuts Giles up with a kiss. Pulling away and seeing that he is dazed for a moment, Joyce tells him, "I understand how you feel, but screaming an yelling in my kitchen won't help any."  
  
Sighing and pulling her into his arms Giles says into her hair, "I know, I know. Its just that the thought of something happening to Buffy or Dawn, or any of them makes me."  
  
Pulling away slightly she looks up at him, "Afraid? Helpless? Tell me if I'm getting close here?"  
  
"Well, I was actually thinking mad with anger, but I guess those would work as well." He says with a small grin.  
  
"So now we know why and what it was that happened, so what do we do about it?"  
  
"We'll wait for Buffy to get back to tell her, I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear that the Council is responsible for what happened to her."  
  
"And after that?"  
  
"I'm not sure. We don't have much to go on, we only know that Travers is in New York nothing else about his plans or where this third Slayer is."  
  
"Nothing to research then is there?"  
  
"Aside from the ritual? I don't think so. Julian is the only one who would be able to get me any more information on what is going on inside the Council, aside from him I've been pretty much blacklisted from the rest of the Watchers."  
  
"You two are good friends?" She asks him warily, knowing about what he had done with other friends from his past.  
  
"I assure you he is nothing like Ethan. He was my partner in crime when I pulled the freshman prank at the Academy. We were caught, but the prank itself made us legends." He tells her with a wistful smile.  
  
"You'll have to tell me about that sometime."  
  
"I will, but not until after dinner." He tells her sternly.  
  
"But what about the Council?"  
  
"It can wait until Buffy gets home. Until then there is nothing we can do."  
  
"Fine. So what do you want to do then?"  
  
"Well for a start why don't we discuss certain implications?" He tells her as he pulls her closer to him.  
  
"Implications? What about dinner?"  
  
"I'll let it simmer for a bit, it should be fine." He tells her gently pushing her out of the kitchen.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Julian Griffith walks quietly between the stacks of books in a small corner of the great library. Even though his main job was not research his academy days had taught him to be self-sufficient. The way the new Watchers were coming out of the academy, they were all specialized. If they were trained for a specific purpose they would be only able to do that job and nothing else. The focus of cross training had faded away long ago. The only ones that were trained in all the fields were those from the older classes or the field watchers.  
  
Even then the field many of the field Watchers had specialties as well. Giles and himself had come from the old school. Their skills were well rounded, so it was a great surprise when Julian threw a dagger into the shadows and took off running. At least it was a surprise to the young Watcher waiting in the shadows to ambush him.  
  
Julian ran deeper into the stacks, hoping to loose them between the maze- like pathways. Using the skills at his disposal he listens to the footfalls as they chase after him, four of them, probably more.  
  
Turning sharply and ducking behind a stack he forces his breathing to be slow and quiet even with his blood pounding in his ears.  
  
He had heard stories of the Council taking out what they thought as security threats but he had thrown those ideas by the wayside. James Bondish in his mind to be reality, but apparently he was mistaken.  
  
But what had he done? He wasn't working on any sensitive materials or anything like, the only thing he had done today was talk to Rupert.  
  
That was it! He had told him about the ritual and Travers, could that be why they were after him?  
  
Julian wasn't about to stand there and wait for them to tell him why. Listening intently as the footsteps grow more and more quiet Julian slowly rises to his feet and backs away hoping to double back and loose them. He just needed enough time to get to his flat and regroup.  
  
At least that was the plan when a fist came crashing into his face knocking him down. His vision was still swimming in front of him when a foot caught him in the ribs cracking a few. He could feel his breath being forced out of his lungs.  
  
He was vaguely aware of the other footsteps growing ever closer to his position. He wasn't sure if his unknown assailant was the one who called them to his position or if it was his own cries of pain that had signaled them. Whichever it was, they were coming, and fast.  
  
Damn! He was having problems breathing in. One of his ribs must have punctured his lungs. Turning on all fours he coughs and watches as blood splatters on the floor in front of him.  
  
Most definitely a punctured lung. He doesn't have much time to dwell on it as another foot comes up and hits him in the gut. He flips over like a pancake from the force of the kick. Landing on his back he can feel his ribs sear with burning hot pain, reminding him of his injuries.  
  
It was then that the other found them between the stacks. Turning his head he sees a pair of feet come to a stop by his hand. One of the feet disappears from his line of sight, only to come crashing down violently on his hand breaking bones and skin with a sickening crunch. Screaming cradling his broken hand close.  
  
"You should have kept you nose out of other people's business old man." A voice tells him.  
  
He doesn't get a chance to respond to the voice as a booted foot connects with his head causing the room to spin into darkness. He isn't able to witness as the others continue to beat on his prone form. He doesn't hear his bones break. He cannot feel the pain as it surges through his body. He isn't able to witness his blood splatter onto the surrounding books or as it oozes out around his body taking his life with it.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
Xander's arm lifts as he shifts his weight to the left and then shuffles to the right. Rocking back on his left foot he springs forward spinning quickly to face the opposite direction. He continues to move, recalling the movements he had burned into his memory with as he flows across the floor. A stream of perspiration trickles down his temple, he had been at this for almost three hours his body was growing tired but he continued to push on.  
  
Looking up he sees Faith as well. She had been at it for as long as he and still she looked as beautiful as ever. She throws him as easy smile as they come to the end of their exercise.  
  
"You two are progressing faster than any other pair I have ever taught before!" Melanie says to them as they walk over to where their bottles of water wait for them at the side of the room.  
  
"Thanks." Xander says after taking a swig from his bottle. "But I think that Amanda has a lot to do with how good we look." He says smiling at Faith.  
  
"Thanks Harry, but I think that you are over-exaggerating a bit. Don't you?" Faith tells him.  
  
"Actually," Melanie interjects, "A dancer is only as good as their partner. Fred Astaire was great dancer but along with Ginger Rodgers they were magical."  
  
"I guess you're right." Faith answers. "Well we'll see you Thursday, okay?"  
  
"I'll be here!" Melanie says brightly. "See you then!"  
  
"Bye!" Xander says to her on their way out.  
  
They walk to their car talking excitedly about their latest lesson.  
  
Xander watches her as she talks, a smile on her face. He is glad to see her smiling and having a good time once more, despite the horrible attack on her earlier in the week. Despite their efforts though they still haven't been able to figure out what or why it had happened. Methos had told them to be wary but not to worry about another attack to happen. According to Cassandra such magical attacks took hours even days to perform and took an incredible amount of skill power to carry them out. More than likely  
  
"Lindy-Hop is hard, but I think I'm getting the hang of it." She says.  
  
"Me too, but so far out of all the dances we've learned I like this one the best." He tells her, "That and Tango."  
  
"Tango?" she asks him quizzically.  
  
"Oh yeah. Have you ever seen Scent of a Woman?"  
  
"The movie with Pachino in it?"  
  
"That's the one."  
  
"Parts, not all of it though."  
  
"You poor depraved child." Xander says to her stroking her hair as if she were a little girl. "Scent of a Woman is one of the all time greatest movies ever made! WHO-WAH!"  
  
"So what does that have to do with the tango?"  
  
"Well there is this scene where Pachino tangos with this girl and. never mind you'll have to just watch it and see. It's one of the best scenes in the movie. Well anyway, ever since I saw that scene I've always wanted to learn how to tango."  
  
"All this from a scene in a movie?"  
  
"Not just any movie, Scent of a Woman! WHO"  
  
"Wha. I get it. I guess I'll have to watch it."  
  
"You've got that right. I just so happen to own a copy on DVD so you can watch it in all it's glory!"  
  
"I can't wait." She answers him sarcastically.  
  
Xander looks at her and sees right through her sarcasm. "Just you wait, you're going to love this movie."  
  
"Don't tell me you want to watch the movie tonight do you?"  
  
"Why? Its not like you have much planned for tomorrow do you?"  
  
"No it just that I thought I would turn in a little early." Faith doesn't finish her sentence as she begins to look around her.  
  
Seeing her sudden change in demeanor Xander instinctively reaches for his sword. "What is it?"  
  
"I'm not sure." She says slowly, turning slightly trying to focus on the source of the feeling. "But it's close."  
  
"Vampire?"  
  
"That's the thing," She pauses as she turns again searching for whatever it was that she felt, "I can't tell."  
  
Pulling out his sword he asks, "What do you mean you can't tell?"  
  
"Just that, I can't tell. But there is definitely something out there."  
  
As if on cue a vampire rushes out from the shadows to tackle Faith to the ground. Xander sword ready watches as the two forms struggle on the pavement. Seeing that he can't strike the demon with his sword without harming Faith he tosses it aside before joining in fray.  
  
Xander pulls the vampire off of Faith and throws it into a pile of trashcans. The vampire gets up quickly ready to face it's new opponent. Xander blocks the blows as they come at him feeling the force behind each and every strike. If he traded blow for blow with the vampire he knew that he wouldn't last very long. In fact he was pretty sure he would get beaten to a bloody pulp. Fortunately for him though he didn't plan on fighting long enough for that to happen.  
  
Stealing a look behind him he sees that Faith is up and ready with a stake in hand. Just as he turns his head to face the vampire again he just sees its fist come at his head. He is able to roll with the punch, deflecting much of the strength behind the punch. As he crashes down to the floor he can see Faith take his place in the fight.  
  
She ducks a punch and counters with a quick kick just below the vampire's kneecap. The reaction is almost immediate. The vampire's scream of pain coincides with the wet crunch of bone and cartilage. In most cases this is something that would incapacitate a man.  
  
Vampires however, are not men.  
  
The vampire continues to fight despite the pain and its now skewed balance. Xander watches on as Faith presses her advantage. He had no worries about Faith dispatching her opponent. Even on a bad day she could take down any vampire.  
  
No, he wasn't worried about Faith's ability to kill the vampire. He was more worried by the movement in the shadows behind her. Moving to pick up his sword his suspicions are verified as another form moves out of the shadows making its way to where Faith and the vampire were fighting.  
  
Clutching his sword in his hand he runs to intercept the form before it can reach Faith. As his shoulder connects with the form with a loud thump Xander can tell instantly whatever it is, it isn't human. Since vampires essentially are the dead bodies of humans reanimated he also rules out the possibility that this new adversary is a vampire.  
  
Hitting the ground and rolling away from his opponent Xander comes up with his sword in ready position. Glancing over his shoulder he sees Faith dispatch the vampire with a quick jab to the heart.  
  
Xander takes a good look at his opponent and sees that it is definitely not a vampire. The armor like plating around its body and wicked looking claws definitely ruled out that possibility. It looked vaguely familiar, probably something he had run across while researching the prophecy of the week with Giles. So faced with an enemy with unknown powers and strengths Xander does the only thing that comes to mind.  
  
"You're an ugly one aren't you?" He tells the demon getting a low menacing growl for his humor. "What? Have you actually taken a look at yourself in the mirror?"  
  
The demon's growl turns into a roar as he rushes at Xander claws withdrawn and slicing through the air. Xander lets the demon attack a moment longer while he tries to assess the situation.  
  
So far no magical attacks, no ranged attacks either. So far so good, now the only hard part is trying to find out how to kill it. Xander thought to himself as he continued to dodge the demon's attacks. Experimentally he lashes out with his sword just enough to cut the demon the edge of his blade.  
  
The results of his experiment as better than he had expected as he sees the angry slash mark against the dark hide of the demon. Xander ducks another swing of the demon's claws and counters with a swing that he has used so many times in practice as well as in real life. The killing blow, some call it, or the final blow. No matter what you call it, it is the unmistakable cut used to behead your opponent.  
  
It is a movement that meant death to all who were on the receiving end of it. For the demon, its meaning is no different as its head is separated from its shoulders. Has this been an immortal the body would have slumped to the ground with a surprising lack of blood as the quickening would have cauterized the wound.  
  
However this was a demon, and demons do not have quickenings. The result is a flood of green ochre drenching him as the body falls to the ground at his feet.  
  
Faith watches as Xander beheads the demon and is subsequently drenched by the demon's blood. She watches Xander for a moment waiting for a reaction of some sort but instead Xander continues to stand still frozen in the position after dealing the killing blow.  
  
Tentatively Faith walks up to the still form of Xander, making sure not to touch any of the green blood, perhaps there are some magical property to the blood that freezes people in place.  
  
"Uh.Xand?" She asks him.  
  
When she doesn't get an answer she tries again, "Xand?"  
  
Thinking that he is frozen in place she begins to panic. She can't touch him, if the blood is what caused this then she can't afford to get any of it on her or she would be frozen as well. She is about head for the car to get the cell phone when Xander drops his sword.  
  
"Xand? XAND! Snap out of it!" She yells at him.  
  
As if finally noticing that she was there Xander turns around and looks at her curiously. "Faith?"  
  
"Xand? You okay?" She asks carefully, not knowing what kind of effect the demon blood would have on him.  
  
"Do you have any idea how gross this feels? You get doused in demon blood and you tell me if you're okay or not." Xander says trying in vain to wipe away the offending liquid.  
  
"Well better you than me." Faith jokes.  
  
"Ha ha." He answers flatly.  
  
Walking over to him she picks up his sword and holds it away from her, careful to keep the blood from dripping on her. She is about to make another comment when she sees the look on Xander's face. Before she can react Xander pulls her to him, hugging her closely. She is about to return his embrace when she feels her clothes sticking to her. She tries to pull away but Xander just holds on to her all the more.  
  
"Xander! You're getting that crap all over me!" She exclaims  
  
"You know what they say, misery loves company." He says into her ear.  
  
Faith's only reaction to Xander's comment is to laugh. It is a sound that warms his heart and causes him to laugh right along with her. Both now wet and dripping with green goo the sheer strangeness of the situation finally got to them.  
  
"You know," Xander says between laughs, "if we had been any other two people this would have been just too weird."  
  
"But instead we're the weird ones who find this too funny." She answers him with a smirk  
  
"Come on, let's go home. I really need to get out of these clothes."  
  
"And because of you so do I." She retorts. Xander gives her a curious look. For moment she sees something flash across Xander's eyes. They were almost.wistful. Seeing that look causes her heart to beat faster.  
  
Chuckling Xander sheaths his sword. Holding out his hand to her he says, "We make an interesting pair don't we?"  
  
"That we do." She answers taking hold of his hand, allowing him to lead her back to the car both of them chuckling the entire way.  
  
As they walk away from the scene neither of them see the shadow hiding in the darkness watching their retreating forms.  
  
.  
  
Quentin Travers sits in the posh offices of the New York headquarters of the Watchers in Manhattan. For all intensive purposes the offices look just like the others that occupy the surrounding buildings. To the outside world these offices house one of the many stock brokerages in the area.  
  
Travers and his team had arrived in New York a few hours ago. The New York Watchers offices had been notified of their arrival and were there to pick them up. Meeting the highest-ranking Watcher in the area Travers and his team quickly setup a search pattern hoping to catch the rogue Slayer before she could exit the city.  
  
That had been hours ago. As teams of Watchers began to systematically check into headquarters Travers' patience steadily began to wear thinner and thinner. As the hours passed each team reported with no results. New York is a huge city and as time continued to pass by so did Travers' window of opportunity.  
  
"Quentin, I think that it is time to throw in the towel." Mr. Meyers, head of the North American Watchers, tells his colleague.  
  
"We can't, we have to find her! You don't know what is at stake here. Have your men search again. Obviously they must have missed something" He tells him.  
  
"No I don't know what is at stake here but I do know this: It take runaways less time to disappear in this city than your Slayer has had. The chances of finding her now are slim to none."  
  
"But she is the Slayer, her instincts will eventually have to take control. She'll go out on patrol she'll try to hunt demons. Without our direction she'll be sloppy, giving us a trail to follow right to her."  
  
Meyer's only reaction to Travers explanation is to shake his head and chuckle.  
  
"What's so funny?" Travers growls.  
  
"The fact that you keep measuring the capabilities of this Slayers against the expectations you have in that head of yours."  
  
"What are you babbling about Meyers?"  
  
"Don't you get it Travers? This girl isn't like anything that you've encountered before, hell she isn't like anything the Council has encountered before! She has already killed humans, and used their belongings to buy a plane ticket to the States! You have severely underestimated the abilities of this Slayer and now you're playing catch up!"  
  
"I will not stand here and listen to this!" Travers says completely taken aback.  
  
"Well you're going to have to because if you're going to get any help here state side you'll have to deal with me! It is your own pride and narrow- mindedness that allowed her to escape. You better rethink a few things if you actually plan to catch this one Travers."  
  
"Well what do you suggest?" Travers says daring Meyers to come up with an idea .  
  
"We talk to the man who has the most experience with dealing with alternative Slayers."  
  
"No! We will not."  
  
"If you hope to gain any insight on this one Travers you better get over yourself and your petty grievances with this man. If anyone knows how a Slayer thinks it would be Rupert Giles."  
  
.  
  
Xander is running through the stacks of a library of some sort, something is chasing him.  
  
Ducking behind one of the stacks he hears as his pursuers rush by. Why were they chasing him? What did they want?  
  
Getting up quickly he turns only to be met by a fist slamming into his face. As he falls he can feel his body protest as his assailant continues the beating kicking him in the ribs. He can hear them crack and the rush of pain numbing the side of his body as he falls on his back.  
  
He tries to get to his feet, coughing up blood, as the others finally find him. They join in and continue to beat him. He can feel bones break as they crush his hand. He sees his blood splatter on nearby books as one of them viciously kicks him in the head.  
  
His eyesight swimming he looks up and can barely hear one of his attackers say to him, "You should have kept you nose out of other people's business old man."  
  
Xander realizes that he is standing once more but this time he is an observer to the actions. He watches on as the group of men continues to kick, punch and attack the prone body of the man, who only moment ago was Xander.  
  
Xander looks on as he can recall some of the memories of the old man. They were Watchers! He was a Watcher! Why would they attack their own kind? What could they have gained from attacking an old man?  
  
Xander watches as one of the men prepares to kick the man again. Not able to take more of it Xander rushes to the side of the old man and fends off the attackers. At least that is what he tried to do as he felt a barrier of some sort stop him from reaching him in time. One of the attackers kicks the old man once more in the head causing it to violently twist to the side, this time however his head stays that way at an odd angle.  
  
"I think that it was rather poetic don't you?" A voice says behind Xander  
  
Turning around he sees the form of the Master grinning at him.  
  
"You did this? I don't even know this man and you killed him!?!" Xander is livid, he could never watch idly as others suffered, it was just his nature.  
  
"You were their Xander my boy, I didn't do anything. I nudged a few things here, suggested a few things there and presto! Instant homicide! I thought it was rather poetic myself."  
  
"Poetic! Poetic! He was an innocent! He had nothing to do with us, or me for that manner!"  
  
"Ah, but you know someone who knows someone and all that. Anyway, no one is really ever innocent; we all have our own sins and pasts to atone for. I just helped with his penance."  
  
"You had no right!"  
  
"Do I? I think I have all the right in the world! Or this world at least, he who has the power.oh well, maybe next time you'll understand where I'm coming from. I do hope you enjoyed this little show, the next one will be even better. You can count on that. Sweet dreams Xander"  
  
The Master's voice booms with laughter as he watches the group of men walk away from the body of the old man. Looking at him Xander does all he can to not throw up. The man is barely recognizable. His jaw hangs slack on his face obviously broken, with bones protruding from his skin.  
  
"NO! I WON'T LET YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME! I WON'T LET YOU!" Xander screams as he falls to his knees sobbing.  
  
Xander's eye flutter open and he bolts upright in bed. He can feel the streaks of tears he had cried while sleeping. Something is happening to him and what frightens him the most is the fact that he has no idea what it is.  
  
.  
  
Again, I'm sorry that it's taken so long to get this out but I am having some major writers block. Please review; tell me what you think so far and what you hope to see. Hopefully something will shake my brain loose and I can continue writing this piece in a timely fashion. Anyway in the mean time I've started work on another story, completely separate from the 'Leaves' continuum, but it will be a crossover, F/X and an AU. So it won't stray too far from my main themes, but it is a different animal nonetheless. So thanks all of you for reading and reviewing, leave your email if you review I will write back I promise. 


	5. Chapter 5: Studies of Pain

Title: Falling Toward Apotheosis  
  
Rating: R  
  
Author: Banquo  
  
Email: [1]banquo@fanfiction.net  
  
Summary: Xander and Faith have returned home after the events of "Leaves of Grass" but all is not as it seems. Dark dreams and plans set into motion allude to the danger that waits beyond the horizon.  
  
Disclaimers: I own nothing except the story and all the characters I create in between. Buffy and all character related there in belong to Joss and Mutant enemy. While the concept of Immortality and all characters pertaining to Highlander belong to Panzer-Davis.  
  
Archive: Go right ahead! Just email me a link where you plan on archiving my fic.  
  
Though this story can stand on its own there are references to my first story so I strongly recommend that you read my first story "Leaves of Grass" which can be found at [2]www.fanfiction.net search for the title and it will appear on the top of the list. Or you can go [3]here directly to get to the story.  
  
I had struggled a bit with this chapter since I was writing two distinctly different stories at the same time. While writing I found that I was focusing more on the other story rather than this one. So I stopped writing the other one and finished this chapter for my loyal readers. Thanks for the encouraging reviews; they really do motivate me to write more. I have yet to start on the next chapter, due to real life getting in the way last week (LA/OC Lindy Binge and work to name just two things), so I'm not sure when you can expect the next chapter. But rest assured I haven't given up on writing. So here you all go:  
  
Chapter 5: Studies of Pain  
  
In Sunnydale a particularly unlucky training dummy is on the receiving end of a rather brutal expulsion of anger. Giles flinches as hear hears the loud sounds as feet and fists connect with dummy.  
  
Buffy did not take the news he had given her the night before very well. Actually that was a bit of an understatement, the term cold hatred would be the best term to use. When he told her what he had learned Buffy stood there a moment, her jaw clenched. It is a stance he had seen many times before. He saw it when Buffy had found out about those Angelus had killed. He saw it when she found out about those who were killed under her watch. He had seen it on his own face when he found out the Angelus had killed Ms. Calendar.  
  
She probably had gotten the expression from him, he thinks.  
  
When she had found out what the council had done to her she stood there, jaw clenched as if she were about to explode. However she quickly glanced over at Dawn, who had come downstairs to greet her sister, and her Mother and just nodded slowly before walking upstairs to her room. Giles was bout to go up and follow her to make sure that she was okay when he heard her voice come down the stairs.  
  
"We're training early tomorrow?" She asked.  
  
"Yes." Was his simple reply.  
  
"Good."  
  
Now looking at Buffy as she trained he knew why she had asked that question. She had quite a bit of anger to work out, anger she didn't want to come out while she was in front of her family. But here, in the sanctuary of the training room she could freely work out that anger the way she knew best.  
  
Through fighting.  
  
True she didn't really have much in the way of opponents, but the training dummy would suffice this morning, as it has for the past two hours. Buffy was still going strong but he could tell that the purpose for her fervor had subtly changed over the past few minutes.  
  
Giles decided that it was time to put an end to the training session.  
  
"Buffy."  
  
Buffy continues to punch and kick the dummy, not hearing Giles call her name.  
  
"Buffy." He calls again.  
  
Buffy performs and inside crescent kick, connecting with the dummy's head, quickly setting up for a back hand fist to follow up the kick.  
  
Giles stands up and walks over to her. There was only one way to get her attention, but he had to be very careful in the way he did it. He looked at the part of the routine that Buffy was in, gauging her rhythm and movement.  
  
Seeing his opportunity he gently places a hand on her shoulder and calls her name again, "Buffy."  
  
Knowing what her reaction would be he let his hand slide down slightly as he backs away just out of reach from the backhand aimed at his head. Using his hand he pushes her arm past him using her own momentum to knock her safely of balance forcing her to disengage as she regained her footing.  
  
Just as she recovers eyes blazing Giles calls out her name one more time.  
  
"Buffy."  
  
Just as fast as her anger had flared up it was gone, once she realized that it was Giles who had interrupted her training regimen.  
  
"Giles? Jeez! You know better than to do that Giles, I could have hurt you!"  
  
A small knowing smile tugs on the corners of his mouth before he answers, "Somehow I doubt that. But I think it's time to stop for today."  
  
"What do you mean, I was just getting started." Buffy complains.  
  
"Precisely why I wanted you to stop."  
  
"What?" Buffy asks.  
  
"Come on let's sit."  
  
Buffy sits on one of the benches as Giles pulls a chair up and places it in front of her sitting down.  
  
Curious Buffy asks Giles, "What's up?"  
  
"I was about to ask you the same thing. How are you feeling?"  
  
"I'm just peachy." She answers brightly. Seeing the look on Giles' face however she amends her answer. "To tell you the truth, not very well. I mean physically I'm fine, I'm just..."  
  
"Angry?" Giles finishes for her.  
  
"Yeah." She says before taking a deep breath and continuing. "When you told me what you had found out I was furious. A thousand things went through my head in the span of a few seconds and I didn't know how to deal with it. I wanted to scream, yell, I wanted to go out and patrol some more just to find something to take my anger out on them. But I couldn't, not in front of my family."  
  
"So you decided to wait until our morning training session to let loose some of your anger?" He asks her.  
  
"Yeah, and I was doing a good job of it too before you stopped me." She says with a slight pout.  
  
Giles takes his glasses off for a moment and wipes a smudge from the lens. He doesn't look up at her as he says, "That may work with your mother, maybe even the others, but it won't work with me."  
  
When he puts he glasses on he sees the confused look on Buffy's face. "That may have been your intention when you started out but that changed. So let me ask you again, how are you feeling?"  
  
The second he finished he could see Buffy's entire demeanor change. She had a look of defeat about her that she would never show in front of the others, not even her mother. But he had seen it many times, he was the only one that she would allow to see her like this, vunerable.  
  
"I'm scared Giles."  
  
"Of what? The Council?"  
  
"No...I mean yes..."  
  
"Buffy, talk to me."  
  
"I mean that I am scared of what the Council is capable of, but there is something else that I'm scared of."  
  
"And that would be?"  
  
"Dying." She says simply.  
  
Giles looks at her with a look of shock, he knew something was frightening the young woman but he had no idea that this would be what is bothering her.  
  
"Buffy, everyone is afraid of dying, Slayers even more so because of the dangers they face every night."  
  
"No I'm not afraid of dying in the sense of death. I'm afraid that if I should die, everything that is important to me, all those I care about, who'll take care of them? I mean I'm supposed to protect them, how am I supposed to do that if I die? Without me around they'd be east prey for the next monster that comes by, human or otherwise."  
  
"Buffy, the next Slayer..."  
  
"Won't be trained by you." She says with finality and a reserve that surprises him. "You're a major reason why I lasted this long Giles, you may not think it but it's true. You let me have friends, you let me have a life, you let others help me, you helped giving me a reason and motivation to go out there every night and do what my destiny has called me to do. Giles, I know that you might not think this but without you I would have died long ago."  
  
Momentarily shocked Giles' modesty allows him to recover quickly, "I assure you Buffy you are overstating my importance just a little..."  
  
"No I'm not Giles. I was lucky when it came to Watchers; Travers is a good example of what the Council represents. If he had been my Watcher I would have died long ago."  
  
For a rare moment in his life Giles has nothing to say.  
  
"Giles, what happens to the families and the loved ones of a Slayer when she dies? What happens to them?"  
  
Shaken out of his reverie Giles answers, "Truthfully? I don't know. Slayers never had families or friends before. They are considered distractions to the duties of the Slayer and her Watcher."  
  
"So no one knows what will happen to them if I die?" She asks quietly.  
  
"No, but I can tell you what I think will happen. First, I think that you will live long enough to see your family for a long time to come. Second, even if you died I would personally see to it that your mother and Dawn are taken care of. I would leave the Watchers and stay here in Sunnydale or wherever they went to make sure that they were okay. Third, your friends are some of the most capable people I have ever met, brave, selfless and most of all fearless. You don't have to worry too much about them. They will live their lives and they will meet their ends on their terms."  
  
She smiles slightly as she tells him, "You make it sound as if you guys don't need me."  
  
"No Buffy, that is far from the truth. We need you in our lives just as you need us in yours, but we don't need you as a protector. We need you here as a friend," Giles stands up and sits next to her on the bench and puts an arm around her shoulders, "and as a daughter."  
  
She doesn't say anything as she leans into him, the man who has become her father, the man who has come to be her protector over the years.  
  
"Now you better go and get cleaned up, I've got to open the shop soon and you and your sister can help with the shipment that is coming in this morning."  
  
She nods as she gets up and picks up her bag. As she exits the room Giles gets up and walks over to one of the windows looking out at the cloudy sky above.  
  
"We'll get through this. We have to."  
  
...  
  
Freedom is a strange thing. For so many throughout the ages it is something that many have fought and died for. Freedom from oppression, freedom from tyranny, the freedom to express oneself, the freedom to practice religion, freedom is something that has been applied to many a thing. But freedom itself is a funny concept.  
  
Like many of the intangibles in life it is something that cannot be expressed in any one term other than itself. But for some freedom is a much simpler thing to know than the complexities of God given rights. For some it is simply a release. A release from the boundaries and the cages that entrap them, sometimes they self-created boundaries, but most of the time they are boundaries that hold many against their will.  
  
Many, however take their freedom so lightly, taking for granted the ability to come and go as they please. They take for granted the intangible thing that has been handed to them on a silver platter.  
  
For the Master however freedom is something he vows never to take for granted ever again. The Master muses about his newly gained freedom, how does one apply an intangible thing to a being that is equally intangible? He likens the comparison to giving form to air, it is something that goes against the logically mind. Then again, that depends on the logic that ones mind applies to the situation.  
  
He can hear the confusion from the other consciousness he is sharing his current vessel with. He quickly dismisses it as he continues on completing the task at hand. Killing.  
  
Actually the task at hand is more of the aftermath of killing, more of a morbid rearrangement. The actual killing had taken place a few hours ago. Everything now was just the little extra that always brought a flare to things.  
  
Now like many skills, killing and death is an art. Like many art forms there are subtle differences from one artist to the next. Each picture painted, ever sculpture created, every portion of the piece is insight into the mind and psyche of the artist. Every artist had tendencies that gave subtle clues and hints as to their background, their mode of thinking, just enough to single out what made the artist who they are today.  
  
Art critics are able to pick these subtleties out, differentiating each artist from the others. The critics he hopes to catch the attention of with this work however are a bit different. In this time they are called profilers, men and women who have the ability to crawl into the minds of killers, psychopaths they call them, and see what makes them tick.  
  
He chuckles as he thinks of what this particular piece will make them think of him. He quickly dismisses those notions as he steps back to look at his work. No, his work is meant to catch the attention of a very specific group of people, actually only one person will know what it is that is doing this. He will see the grotesque pictures and read of the horrid find and his subconscious will begin to let loose the images given to him. Déjà vu, they call it, the sense of seeing something before, in a dream, a past life, whatever the cause it will be enough to make him try to stop it, and with each succeeding artwork that is found it will continue to plague him, mock him with the failure of not stopping the deaths in time.  
  
Yes, it will happen as he planned. Looking at his work he knows that the forensic specialists will find out that while this was being done to this person they were alive for a good majority of it. They will know that the loss of blood is what caused death, not severe trauma. They will also know that the mutilation to the rest of the body was done after the time of death for good measure.  
  
He chuckles to himself as he pictures the profilers trying to understand what kind of childhood or traumatic experience could so warp an individual so much to allow his psyche to do such horrible things. That was the funny things about humans, their narrow minded pride limiting all that they know to the minute scope of their own understanding of their own minds, and then applying that understanding to all that they know. As if that would provide all the answers to their questions about their limited knowledge of the universe.  
  
No, the telltale signature he would add shortly would spell out exactly which part of human society this was meant for.  
  
Taking a sword he cleanly cleaves the head off of the corpse.  
  
Just as he planned there was no blood, as most of it had been drained away long ago. It was a minor, but important tell tale sign as well. Leaving the head below where he had hung his work of art on the wall he walks over to a small bowl that had a broad paintbrush in it.  
  
It is the type of paintbrush used by artists to make broad thick strokes on a canvas. Swirling the concoction in the bowl with the brush as he walks to his artwork he carefully takes the brush out and wipes any excess fluid from the brush. No point in getting sloppy now, he thinks as he begins to paint the wall around his piece of art.  
  
Hours later as he finishes he looks at his work and nods, with the last of his brush he writes on the wall a simple message, a message that matches the deep red color of the rest of the work on the wall. Finishing his writing he collects his tools and departs.  
  
When the authorities would find the studio sometime later that week, nearly all that found it would find themselves running away after seeing the site initially, whether or not they had food in their stomachs didn't matter, they would heave nonetheless. Even for the most battle-hardened individuals who had lived through war and seen the horrors that men could do would pale at the sight.  
  
For on the wall was a pale body, with out a trace of blood on it, it's head grotesquely laid at its own feet a look of pain and terror frozen on its detached face, arms stretched out in a horrible mockery of the crucifixion. Behind it were its entrails and lungs hung and splayed out in a fashion that made one think of butterfly wings outstretched ready for flight.  
  
Later when trying to figure out where all the blood of the victim had gone the forensic team will make a discovery that would make their stomachs turn even more. For there were pictures painted on the wall around the body. Perfect tonal studies of the human pain and terror, pictures that could have been taken directly from one of Faust's works, pictures that made the body look like it was part of some grotesque mural, they were in fact painted in blood, to be more precise, the blood of the victim.  
  
Above it all, above the body and mural of pain, as some had come to call it, was a simple phrase. It was perhaps it was the thing that was most chilling and confusing of all. For above the body and the mural, in perfect medieval block lettering, as if the writers of the Guggenheim bible themselves had written it, was the simple phrase:  
  
"Only One."  
  
...  
  
Lauren Fletcher sets foot at Los Angels International Airport. Walking to the baggage claim area she waits patiently for her suitcase to slide down the carousel. Others that were on her flight were beginning to gather around her as the rest of the plane disembarked after she had gotten out of the plane.  
  
Her bag appeared at the opening of the carousel and slid down on the moving conveyor belt. Grabbing her bag she hefted it off of the belt and extended the long handle allowing her to wheel the bag behind her as she walked over to the US customs line.  
  
Getting into the line marked for those with passports other than US she takes out her passport and for she had filled out in the plane.  
  
"Form and passport please." The customs agent asked her.  
  
She handed the forms and her passport over and the agent checked it over before handing it back to her. Lauren then headed over to the second checkpoint and told the agent there that she had nothing to claim. The agent looked over her bags and waved her through after stamping her passport. Making her way over to the rental car counter she tells the attendee her name telling that she has a car reserved.  
  
She hands the young woman her paper work and waits as she searches for her in the computer. "You can choose any car on aisle three."  
  
"Thank you, you don't have a map I could have do you?"  
  
"Sure, which direction are you heading? I could highlight the route on the map for you."  
  
"Sunnydale."  
  
"Sunnydale huh? Okay, let me see." She says after pulling out a map of southern California. "You're right here," she says circling the airport, "you need to take Sepulveda and go south, you'll see a sign for the 105 east on the left hand side. Take that and get on the 105 east. After a little bit you'll see a sign for the 405 south, follow the signs and stay on the 405. You'll be on that freeway for about and hour, it'll turn into the 5 freeway here and after that you should see the signs for Sunnydale."  
  
"Thank you." Lauren tells the young woman.  
  
Making her way to the car she puts her bags into the back and gets into the drivers seat. Turning the ignition of the engine she pulls out of the parking garage and turns onto Sepulveda. Checking the clock on the dashboard she sees that the others wouldn't be arriving in California for at least another day giving her plenty of time to set herself up with Rupert.  
  
He didn't know that she was coming, but she needed to establish herself as the good guy before Travers came. Reading the reports that both Rupert and Travers both filed she knew that she wouldn't have too much of a hard time doing that. Both Rupert and Ms Summers both hated Travers and seeing that she and Rupert were friends she should be able to establish herself as an ally not an enemy.  
  
Travers didn't know she was here, looking for the Slayer he had created. But not for the reasons that Travers was searching for her, no she too needed the Slayer as a tool. But hers is a different purpose, one much more personal to her, the means to a end that she had been waiting for so long after Jacob had passed.  
  
Yes, she would find her. If it were the last thing she ever did, she would find her.  
  
...  
  
Mid-September weather in California is not always what some would expect. By this time the weather patterns off the Californian coast over the Pacific Ocean shift ever so slightly. The flow of the jet stream rises just enough, away from the equator to cool the air as it reaches the coast. The result is a thick marine layer that rolls up and onto the coast and spills over inland.  
  
Looking out the window this morning Faith sees what she would call the typical fall weather for California. She could tell just by looking at the clouds above that the sun would probably not come out today, keeping the day cool and overcast. She had been staring out of the window for almost an hour in quiet contemplation.  
  
Faith nearly snorts at that thought. Contemplation. If the others back in Sunnydale could see her now. She doubts that they would be able to relate her old persona to who she is now. The leather wearing, kick ass now ask questions later, man eating Slayer is so far removed from who she is now that it is mind boggling.  
  
Xander had stood watching her for a moment, she was afraid that he would ask her what was bothering her. That was a subject she wasn't quite ready to share, at least not yet anyway. Somehow Xander knew this, or he knew that now wasn't the time to ask and he quietly left her to own quiet contemplation. She idly remembers hearing the computer booting up and Xander's quiet typing on the keyboard.  
  
He had been writing something on the computer for the past few weeks now. When she asked him about it he just threw a lopsided grin at her and said it was his journal. He kept an electronic copy because it was easier for him to go back and read it later on.  
  
She was surprised at the revelation. In her mind most guys would have adamantly denied the fact that they were keeping anything even remotely resembling a diary. But not Xander, he told it to her straight; something that she never thought any guy would have been capable of. When she told him this she just chuckled and with a twinkle in his eye he said, "Why? What do I have to hide? From you of all people?"  
  
What indeed? It seemed that she and Xander shared everything almost openly and freely. When they would talk they talked to each other on a level where she could tell that if she asked him something he would answer truthfully.  
  
And truthfully, she could see that her relationship with Xander was changing as well. They were steadily becoming closer and closer. She told him of her past, her ghosts and her life before Sunnydale with a stoic resolve, never judging her, it was as if he knew all of what she had to say and was just waiting for her to open up. After opening up he would tell her his thoughts and relate to a story of his own and somehow she would be better off than when she started.  
  
Taking a good long look outside as the clouds pass by quietly she sighs. Standing up she thinks that now is a perfect time to open up, especially on today.  
  
Xander is exactly where she expects him to be, sitting on the couch; his legs stretched out on the length of the couch a book in his hands.  
  
Moving to sit on his legs she sits on the couch, making sure to pin his legs without causing him much discomfort.  
  
"How's the book?" She asks him.  
  
Looking up from his book he just shrugs, "Tell you the truth, I wasn't reading it. I've been staring at this page for about," he pauses taking a look at his watch, "a half hour now."  
  
"Waiting for me to come out here and talk to you?"  
  
"That about sums it up." He says putting the book down on the table.  
  
"Then you deprive yourself from the great literature of," glances at the book, "Edgar Allen Poe?"  
  
"Let's just say I'm partial to that Raven."  
  
"Nevermore?"  
  
"That's the one."  
  
"A little morbid don't you think?"  
  
"No, I just like the word, taken in different contexts it could mean so many things to so many different people." She let the words hang in silence for a moment before he asks, "So, what's on your mind?"  
  
"Can you read me that easily?"  
  
Xander smiles easily and says, "That and the fact that you became a living statue sitting on the nook seat for an hour. I figured that something was up but I didn't want pry."  
  
"So you came in here and pretended to read a book?"  
  
"Yup. So now, what's on your mind?"  
  
"Today is the anniversary of my first Watcher's death." She says quietly. She can feel Xander's legs squirm under own. Looking at him he is just staring at her.  
  
"I take it that wasn't what you were expecting."  
  
"Not really, no. But looking back it does make sense."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Come on, I'll show you. Get changed."  
  
"What?"  
  
"We're going out. Get changed." He hefts her onto her feet while getting up. "We'll talk when we get to where we are going."  
  
"Fine, I'll bite. Are you going to tell me where we are going?"  
  
"No, it a surprise." He says with a grin.  
  
Forty minutes later they were in the heart of Little Tokyo. The entire drive she had tried to pry some information as to their destination but Xander would not have any of it. He said that once they arrived they would talk and that it would help.  
  
Parking the car and getting out Faith feels a bit out of place. Her and Xander were perhaps the only ones on the block that weren't of Asian descent. Looking around Faith is a little confused as she fails to see what it is that he thinks is so important that she would have to wait to tell him her story.  
  
"Uh, Xand? I really don't see what it is that you want me to see here."  
  
He just throws her a knowing smile and beckons her to follow him. "Just follow me, since when have I steered you wrong?"  
  
"Never." She tells him. "So far."  
  
"Oh ye of little Faith." He says smiling at his own pun.  
  
"Xand, that was horrible."  
  
"I know but I just had to say it, I've been waiting for the right opportunity to let me use that one."  
  
"Just do me a favor and don't use it ever again, at least not with me around."  
  
"Fine. Spoil sport."  
  
She childishly sticks her tongue out at him before responding, "So where is this place you're going to show me?"  
  
Xander doesn't respond right away and she looks over at him. His entire body language had changed.  
  
"Xand?"  
  
"We're here." He says simply gesturing at a wooden gate.  
  
"What is exactly here?"  
  
Taking a deep breath and pushing the gate open he gently takes her hand and leads her past the hearth.  
  
"My sanctuary."  
  
Once inside Xander closes the gate behind him. Just on the inside of the gate is another door, this one a definite Japanese design to it. Xander walks to a stand next to the door and lights a stick of incense. Bowing slightly he gestures her to follow him as he pushes open the inner door.  
  
What Faith sees inside nearly takes her breath away. The inner sanctum of the walls contains a setting that could have been taken right out of medieval Japan. The elegant and unmistakable design of the inner sanctum is peaceful and serene.  
  
"Xand, what is this place?" She says looking at the rock garden in the center of the room.  
  
Coming to her side, looking at the rock garden as well he answers, "Like I said, my sanctuary. This is a Shinto shrine."  
  
"This place, its, its..."  
  
"I know. That's the way I reacted the first time I came here. I've always been able to clear my head here and when you told me about today I thought that this place would help you. Here there are no distractions, no one to judge you but yourself, here you can be at peace."  
  
Nodding she sits down at one of the stone benches next to the rock garden. "Thanks for sharing this with me Xander, this place is amazing." She says gesturing to the shrine around her. "By the way, where do you get all that spiritual stuff from? Is it something here that you channel or something?"  
  
Xander smiles as he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear, "Don't tell anyone this, but I get most of it from Cassandra. Priestess and all you know. But I thought it wouldn't hurt to spread the wisdom a bit."  
  
"No, it didn't." She smiles.  
  
Leaning back and facing her Xander asks, "So, lets try this again. What's on your mind?"  
  
Faith takes a good look around her and takes a deep breath.  
  
"Today is the anniversary of my first Watcher's death."  
  
She sits there gauging Xander's reaction. His outward appearance was calm if it had been anyone else but her one would have thought that he didn't care. But she knew Xander, and for some reason she knew that he was just itching to ask about it but he didn't want to rush her.  
  
So rather than wait for his response she asks, "What do you know about what happened to me that night?"  
  
"Only what Giles had told us. The Council had found your Watcher dead and Buffy had told us that you were there, you saw what he did to her."  
  
She takes another deep breath and looks around her, drawing strength from both the shrine and the man next to her. "That's about it, but there's more to it, more that I haven't told anyone about, ever."  
  
As she recalls the time she and her Watcher had spent while captured by Kakistos Faith's eyes begin to water. As she draws in a shuddering breath she can feel Xander's arm wrap around her shoulders adding his own strength to her own.  
  
"Hey, I don't want you to force yourself to do this. You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready."  
  
Leaning into him she just shakes her head, "No. I have to do this now, while I have the courage to face it."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Fine, but if at anytime, and I mean it, anytime you feel like you can't keep going I want you to stop."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"No I really do mean it."  
  
"I know you do." She says smiling at him. "But I have to do this, not only for me but for her."  
  
"Her? You mean your first Watcher?"  
  
"Yes, I need to tell someone else what happened that night, in case something ever happened to me someone will remember the sacrifice she made for me."  
  
"Sacrifice?"  
  
"Kakistos had captured us while we were out patrolling. We were ambushed and I was hurt trying to fight them off. There were so many of them. Even with my Slayer powers, I mean you hurt a Slayer enough you'll be able to put her out of commission for a day or two."  
  
"So you were pretty much out of commission?"  
  
"Does the term weak as a kitten mean anything to you? If you saw the place that Kakistos' lackeys had us in you would have seen that any Slayer would have been able to get away. Do you know how bad it was for me Xander? I could barely move." She shudders at the memories as they come at her unrestrained. "By the time Kakistos came to gloat over us my bones had barely knitted together."  
  
Faith feels Xander's hand squeeze her own. Looking up at him he says, "I didn't know."  
  
"That's the thing Xand. No one knew, I never told anyone about this. Giles never pried, and neither did the rest of you. I never got the chance to tell you. After I had killed Finch everything spiraled out of control...and you already know how that story ended."  
  
"So I can see why you never told me or the others, you never had a chance."  
  
"But I do now."  
  
"Okay then, Kakistos had come to gloat?"  
  
Closing her eyes she continues her story. "He had told us that he was going to have fun with us, he said that women always were more entertaining during torture. They would always scream, no matter how long the session had lasted. I was lying down on the only cot that was in the small room and Kakistos walked over to me. He told me that he was going to have a particularly good time torturing me."  
  
"But I thought that you were pretty much out of it?"  
  
"I was. But Kakistos thought that I was mocking him, so he started to beat on me, trying to get me to fight back. But I couldn't, I just didn't have the strength to fight back. That's when my Watcher stood up for me telling him that I was too weak to fight back, that his lackeys thought that the only to capture us alive was to make sure that I wouldn't be able to fight back."  
  
"He couldn't have liked that."  
  
"He didn't, he was furious. When he asked one of the other vampires in the room if it was true he literally ripped its head off when it told him yes. If you have never seen an ancient vampire completely livid you are a lot better off. He turned to my Watcher and asked her about my healing abilities and how long it would take for me to get my strength back. She refused at first but after he hit her she told him that I wouldn't have my strength back for at least another twenty-four hours."  
  
"That soon?"  
  
"That was what I was thinking too. But after he had left room she walked over me and cradled my head, I don't know what it was but she was mumbling something to herself so I asked her about my strength. She just looked down at me with a sad smile and told me that there was no way that my natural healing abilities alone would replenish my strength by that time."  
  
"Then why did she say it?"  
  
A small sad smile appeared on her face as she looked down at the swirling lines in the sand of the rock garden. "She told me that it was the only way she could think of to get him to leave us alone. She didn't want him to hurt me anymore. So I asked her what we were going to do. It wasn't like we were going to be breaking anytime soon. She just smiled and told me that she had a plan."  
  
"So what was the plan?"  
  
"That was the weird part, she said that the plan right now was for me to rest and to gain my strength back and that she would tell me the rest in morning. After that she started to sing a lullaby to me, I fell asleep after that because all I remember is her waking me up in the morning."  
  
"Sounded like a great plan." He says with a bit of uncertainty.  
  
"It was." She says as a tear streaks down her face. "It was the only plan that would have let me get away alive. After I woke up I saw that it was morning and I asked her what the rest of the plan was. She asked me how I felt and I said fine and then I asked her about the plan again. She told me that she had made a promise to protect me and that she would keep that promise even if it cost her life. She said that she owed it my family and me; she told me that I needed to live. I asked what she meant by it and she just told me to keep quiet. She said that they were going to come soon and that I had to listen to her plan and that no matter what happened, no matter what I saw that I had stick to the plan. She made me promise, Xander." The tears were now falling freely down her cheeks.  
  
"Hey, the plan worked didn't it? You're alive right?"  
  
"No you don't understand Xander! She told me that there was going to be only one opportunity for her plan to work and it would have to be the moment when Kakistos went to unchain me for torture. But we needed the element of surprise Kakistos expected me to be weak and I had to play possum until that time. I told her that there wouldn't be a problem with that seeing that I didn't have the strength to much fighting anyway."  
  
"But something happened?"  
  
"Yes. She started singing the lullaby to me again."  
  
"She wanted you to go to sleep again?"  
  
"No, it was a spell of some sort. After she finished the spell I could feel a warmth fall on me and all of a sudden I had my strength back. I could feel it, I could have walked up to the door and busted us out right then and there but she stopped me."  
  
"Why would she do that?"  
  
"She said that it would only get us in another bad situation and they would probably kill us outright instead. Even if they didn't kill us she couldn't do the spell again."  
  
"Why couldn't she do the spell again?"  
  
"She told me that the spell transfers the energy of the caster to the intended receiver...she didn't have enough energy to do the spell twice. I told her that we had to get out of there then, we had to escape or else we'd die. That's when we heard a door open down the hallway and I could hear Kakistos' voice, they were coming. She said that there wasn't any more time left and told me we had to stick to her plan. She grabbed my hand and led me back to the cot. I asked her what she wanted me to do and she looked me straight in the eye and told me to play possum. We would have only one chance at this and I had to wait for the right moment to attack."  
  
"Jesus."  
  
"She said she gave me almost all her energy, but she had kept enough energy to put up a good show."  
  
"A good show?"  
  
"Yes. When Kakistos arrived we were in the exact same position as we were when I woke up. He asked how my healing was coming along. She answered I would be able to walk right now, but my strength wouldn't return to nominal levels for another two hours. He told her that she better be able to last for two hours. So they dragged both of us into another room and chained me to a metal chair and chained her to a table."  
  
"Oh my God."  
  
Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat she takes another deep breath before continuing. Her tears now wouldn't stop and the shivers, the shivers were running all over her skin. "So...for two...hours..." her words slowly turned into sobs as she fought the feelings that were threatening to overwhelm her. "I watched...as...as..."  
  
"Faith, you don't have to..."  
  
"NO! I have to finish this! I watched as he did things to her and every time she thought I would get out of my seat and save her she would look at me and I could all but hear her in my head telling me to keep my promise to her. I watched her die Xander, I could have saved her but I did the only thing I could do."  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"I cried Xander. I cried out of frustration and I cried out of grief. I begged for him to stop but all it did was make him dig harder or poke deeper. He made his lackeys leave the room telling me that he wanted to revel I his victory over me alone. He asked me if I liked hearing her scream, if I enjoyed watching her blood spill off of the table and he leaned in close enough for me to feel his breath on my face as he told me that I would be next. That is when I broke off the arm of the chair they put me in and used it to scratch out his eye. It wasn't enough to kill him but it was enough to let me get away. The rest is history."  
  
Her last sentence comes out as a whisper. She looks around her, at the peace and tranquility of shrine, hoping to find strength in the sanctuary Xander had shared with her. But it wasn't the shrine where she would find the strength and support she needed. It was Xander's arms as he enveloped her in a strong embrace.  
  
As she leaned her head onto Xander's shoulder and began to release all the grief and sadness that she had pent up inside she found that it wasn't the shrine that would be her sanctuary. Not like it was for Xander. No she had found her sanctuary in the man sitting right next to her holding her in a warm embrace.  
  
...  
  
The phone rings in a house about an hour away.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Adam?"  
  
"I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."  
  
After hanging up the phone the man takes out a cell phone and dials a number. After two rings a familiar voice answers the phone.  
  
"Joe's."  
  
"Joe, it's Adam."  
  
"Adam, what the hell was that earlier?"  
  
"Sorry Joe, but I haven't checked my line for taps this week yet."  
  
"If anything you could be called paranoid. How do you know if you cell phone isn't being tapped?"  
  
"I own the cell phone company."  
  
"Oh." Joe says, not sure if the ancient immortal was joking or not.  
  
"So Joe, tell me, what is it that has you wound up so much that you have to call me? MacLeod run into yet another Immortal and you're afraid that he might loose this time? I'm telling you Joe, MacLeod will find a way to win, if not he's just lucky enough to have it fall into his lap."  
  
"It's not about that. Something has come up, something that has shaken a few branches over here with the Watchers. I was hoping you could help."  
  
"You need a translation done?"  
  
"No, logon to the Watchers network. I sent you all the info."  
  
"Sure hold on."  
  
Adam walks into his office and logs into the Watcher's network and gets his email.  
  
"Joe, I got it."  
  
"Open up the attachments."  
  
Double clicking on the attachments he goes through each one, his mind assimilating every detail in each one. With each successive attachment he can feel the pit of his stomach grow cold.  
  
"Adam? You still there?"  
  
"Yes Joe." He glances at the attachments one more time before asking, "Do you have any idea who could have done this? Any leads?"  
  
"Actually I was hoping you could help me out on that one."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Does the work look familiar?"  
  
"What? You think because I was the scourge of three continents that I know every single psychopathic Immortal ever to be born?" Methos tells him slightly offended.  
  
"No, it's not that. I was just hoping you might know someone or something. We haven't been able to turn up any kind of leads here either."  
  
"Well one thing's for sure, whoever did this could give Caspian a run for his money as far as psychopathic tendencies go."  
  
"We're thinking that this was done by an Immortal."  
  
"Was it the cleaved head or maybe the words `only one' that gave you that idea?"  
  
"Very funny Adam."  
  
"What about the body. Was it a known Immortal?"  
  
"No, as far as we could tell it wasn't an Immortal. Also there weren't any signs of a quickening in the area."  
  
"That still doesn't mean anything. The body looks like it had a Blood Eagle performed on it."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I've had a bit of experience with them and no I haven't done many of them on any one, at least not lately."  
  
"What about the pictures?"  
  
"I'm not sure if they mean anything, but they are exquisite. Perfect tone and form, a true piece of art in a morbid way."  
  
"Adam can you help us? You're the closest thing I have to an Immortal profiler I can think of. If this psycho is an Immortal this is exactly the kind of attention we do not want."  
  
"I'll see what I can do. Give me a week or so and I'll send you what I find."  
  
"Thanks Adam."  
  
"You're welcome, oh and if you call my land line again my name is Ben Pierce."  
  
"Sure, I'll give you a call a little later."  
  
"Nice hearing from you Joe."  
  
"You too Adam."  
  
Hanging up his cell phone Adam goes back to his computer and starts to print out hard copies of the information Joe had sent him. It was going to be a long night.  
  
...  
  
Here you go, it's a bit shorter than the others but still I think that it's a good chapter. I actually wrote a majority of this chapter this week and I wanted to get it done before I left on another trip this weekend. I know that I said I was going to work on another story for awhile but I wanted to give you readers something else to chew on for this story for a while until I get started on the next chapter. Keep an eye out for my other story, I think it has great potential but I won't know until I finish the first part and you guys read and comment it. Until then good reading! And don't forget to review!  
  
References  
  
1. mailto:jasonbautista@hotmail.com  
2. http://www.fanfiction.net/  
3. http://www.fanfiction.net/cache/read_212870_1.html 


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